Life of Lindir
by Lily Lindsey-Aubrey
Summary: Current: Lindir intends to get rid of his enemies with the best weapon imaginable: blackmail! But when the tables are turned, what will the minstrel to do save his skin? Life of Lindir: A collection of Lindir stories. Currently contains Four parts. Written because the lesser Elves deserve more love!
1. Part One, Chapter 1

_Authoress' Note:_

_Warning: This is a lot of rambling and silliness. It doesn't have much of a plot._

_I do not own The Lord of the Rings, etc._

_Special thanks to Erestor (get back on here and start writing again!), who is so inspiring. My love for Lindir was first born when he put a paint pot over his head in 'Celeborn's Club'. Thank you, Erestor, for helping me choose my favourite elf! :P_

_Please read, review, and enjoy!_

* * *

**Part One: Nail Polish Remover**

**_Note: The sentiments expressed in this story are not necessarily those of the authoress. I actually like nail polish :P_**

_Chapter 1._

_In Which Fell Forces Enter Rivendell_

Lindir was running down a long passage in Rivendell.  
Now it is not a normal thing for Lindir to run down long passages; he was normally a nice, quiet, more or less dignified elf. But at this moment he was rather disturbed.  
It so happened that he had just seen Gildor. Gildor is rather a disturbing sight at the best of times, but even at his worst, when he had fallen into the sea of Rhun, he had not looked as bad as he did now.  
Gildor had painted his nails.  
Needless to say, Lindir was horrified. Paint is all very well, on walls or signs or the windshield of Legolas' shiny sports car, but on nails, especially those of a highly respected elf, it was positively electrifying.  
So Lindir made his way with amazing speed through Rivendell and to the library, where Erestor was stationed with Lord Elrond. They were having a private conference.  
Of course, neither was very pleased when Lindir rocketed through the door and landed squarely in Erestor's ink pot.  
At least, his face did; or at least, his _nose_ did. He came up out of the ink pot with a nose that rivaled Gildor's fingernails for painty-ness.  
'Lord Elrond,' he bubbled. Excuse him for bubbling, for it is hard to do anything else when you've just been dunked in ink.  
'Lindir?' replied the Lord of Rivendell calmly. He was used to oddities (after all, Erestor was always doing something strange, not to mention Glorfindel- or any of the other elves, really), and even the sight of an ink-soaked elven nose only mildly disturbed him.  
Lindir would have gulped nervously at this point, except he didn't want to swallow any ink, which was now dripping into his mouth and down his chin in a most amiable manner. 'My Lord,' he repeated, 'something terrible has happened to Gildor.'  
'Has he fallen into the horse trough again?' asked Erestor hopefully.  
'No,' said Lindir, scowling, 'He's done something much more serious.'  
'Don't tell me he's base-jumped* off Minas Tirith,' said Elrond, lowering his eyebrows. 'I've been so dependent on him to set a good example for the younger and wilder elves. We've lost so many through that mindless sport; even Denethor disapproves, and he's the one who started the fad. And Elessar has outlawed it.'  
'No, my Lord,' said Lindir, 'though I wish he had. He has endangered all the realms of elves and men, and subjected himself and the last homely house to unceasing ridicule to boot.'  
'Oh, dear,' said Elrond. Finally he was perturbed. Elrond was brave, fierce, and strong, and had endured many untimely elven deaths caused by base-jumping off Minas Tirith with amazing vigor. But ridicule was something he simply couldn't bear, and the thought of him being subjected to it was painful to say the least. 'What exactly did he do?' he asked, and a hint of foreboding crept into his voice.  
Now that it came to it, Lindir was very uncomfortable. It is strangely silly sounding to say outright, 'Gildor has painted his nails.' Lindir hadn't though of the embarrassing factor before. So he shifted shamefacedly and hesitated.  
'Out with it, elf,' said Lord Elrond irritably.  
Lindir closed his eyes and said the fell sentence very quickly. He slowly opened one eye to see Elrond's reaction.  
Elrond was puzzled. 'Gildor has painted his nails? What nails?'  
'_His_ nails,' said Lindir. 'And they look terrible.'  
'I believe he means his fingernails, my Lord,' explained Erestor. 'Tell me Legolas did, too,' he added to Lindir. 'I could get a picture and blackmail him for millions in a few years.'  
'I don't know if he did or not,' said Lindir. 'I only know that Gildor did, and is showing everyone from Mordor to Bree how ridiculous they look.'  
'Oh,' said Elrond. He would have been concerned for Lindir's mental health, but he had stopped worrying about it long ago when he realized that Lindir was too far gone for it to matter. 'Let me see them,' he said.  
'I'll stay here,' said Erestor quickly, straightening up the papers scattered on his desk. 'I have no desire to see this phenomenon.'

* * *

_*_Base-jumping off Minas Tirith was a popular sport in Gondor. It was Denethor who started the fad when he leaped to his death (or tried to).

_Sorry that nothing has really happened yet. The next chapters may be more interesting. :D_


	2. Part One, Chapter 2

**Part One**

_Chapter 2._

_In Which Elrond Discovers the Fell Force_

Elrond and Lindir made their way outside, and found Gildor where Lindir had left him minutes before, sitting on a bench surrounded by a small crowd of people, showing off his nails.

'Observe,' said Lindir, gesturing resignedly towards Gildor.

'What's all this?' asked Lord Elrond.

'Look,' said Gildor proudly, holding up his hands.

Elrond looked.

Gildor had painted his nails; or rather, gotten them painted, because he wasn't exactly talented at that sort of thing. He had been very original in the design he had chosen, deciding on an Avengers theme; on each fingernail resided either the Hulk, Ironman, Captain America, Thor, or Nick Fury colours. Gildor was very proud of them.

'Very interesting,' said Lord Elrond, 'but you've left out Hawkeye and Black Widow.'

'I didn't have enough fingers,' said Gildor.

'Lord Elrond!' cried Lindir, looking pained, 'do not tell me that you condone such, erm, wantonly insane behavior!'

'Of course not,' said Elrond. 'It looks ridiculous. Gildor, remove that stuff immediately.'

'Lord Elrond,' said a random blonde, walking up at that inauspicious moment, 'Lady Galadriel is here and wishes to see you.'

The Lady herself appeared, sweeping forward and nodding to Elrond.

'Elrond,' she said, 'how nice to see you again.'

Lindir's eyes bugged out*. Lady Galadriel was sporting pink hearts on each of her fingernails. Pink, _sparkly _hearts. He gulped.

'What happened to Lindir?' asked Gildor suddenly, noticing him for the first time.

Lindir was instantly conscious of the wet ink that was still residing peacefully on his nose. He blushed and drew out his handkerchief.

'My Lady,' said Elrond, who had also noticed her nails, 'what an unexpected,... surprise.' He wouldn't lie and say pleasure.

After Galadriel had gone (she and Elrond had talked a very long time about something that sounded really boring; Lindir thought it had something to do with forest preservation), Lindir approached Elrond again.

'What should we do?' he asked. 'With even Lady Galadriel herself caught up in this detestable fad we cannot forbid it, can we?'

'No,' sighed Elrond, 'we must concoct a new plan. If people' (and by people he meant Dwarves in particular) 'start hearing about this atrocity, we will be humiliated beyond repair.'

'Could the Lady be perhaps turned to our side by some diplomatic discussion?' asked Lindir hopefully. He didn't like pink hearts.

'Galadriel never changes her mind,' said Elrond with conviction. 'Just ask poor Celeborn.' Celeborn was in general referred to as 'poor Celeborn' by those who knew him because of his unfortunate position of being the husband of a beautiful and powerful (and bossy) lady, and being consequently overlooked by almost everybody.

'So we must resort to blackmail?' asked Lindir.

'Not unless absolutely necessary,' said Elrond. 'It's too risky. We need something subtler.'

'We could close down all the manicure places,' said Lindir.

'There's only one, and it's in Mirkwood,' said Elrond hopelessly. 'Thranduil would kill us if we attacked it, not to mention Legolas.' Elrond's eyes lit up with inspiration. 'We could get Glorfindel to start a new fad of non-fingernail-painted-ness. Or he could write a book about the dangers of fingernail polish.'

Lindir frowned. Glorfindel. Why did he have to come into everything? 'I would not recommend that course of action,' he said. 'Glorfindel will probably get his own nails painted. Sky blue. He'll paint them sky blue. Just watch.' His words faded away into mutters.

'Well, I think it's a very good idea,' Elrond insisted.

Their impromptu meeting had to adjourn at that moment because of an interruption by another random blonde, who wanted Elrond's opinion about what colour he should paint his nails.

Lindir face-palmed, and made a mental note to cause that elf some serious pain later.

'We'll speak more of this matter later,' hissed Elrond. 'Meet me tonight at seven in the library.'

Lindir did not look forward to the meeting. Somehow he was afraid he'd get stuck doing something unpleasant.

* * *

*Like this: O.o You may discover that Lindir often makes this face. It's a disorder of his.


	3. Part One, Chapter 3

**Part One**

_Chapter 3._

_In Which A Plot is Hatched_

That evening, at the designated time, Lindir cautiously opened the library door. It was dark, the only light coming from a candle on Erestor's desk. Elrond was only partially discernible in the shadows, and the whole atmosphere was one of menace. Lindir crept in.

'Sit,' said Elrond. Lindir sat.

'Now,' said Elrond, placing his fingertips together, 'to develop a strategy. Our aim: to blot painted nails from the earth. Our method: undecided.' He paused, and seemed to expect Lindir to say something. Lindir obliginly did.

'Nail polish remover?' he said, hoping that was the what Elrond wanted him to say.

'Idiot!' observed Elrond calmly. 'I know how to get it off, just not how to make other people get it off. Now think of something.'

'Me?' gasped Lindir. No one had ever asked him to think before. Or maybe they had, it was just too long ago for him to remember. Everyone had always assumed he was incapable of the exercise. Thus his surprise.

'Yes, you,' said Elrond, 'or do you want me to get Glorfindel's help?'

I cannot describe the face Lindir made, so I have decided to draw it instead: O.o Something like that.

Elrond beamed, seeing his victory in Lindir's features. 'Well, then, start thinking,' he said.

The library was very silent. Elrond and Lindir both sat, Elrond thinking, Lindir attempting to think. Both of these activities took concentration, so neither had much time to speak. The room got darker and darker. Lindir was glad Erestor wasn't there. One glowering elf in the dark was bad enough.

Lindir, after a while, got distracted from trying to think by the hope that Elrond would think of something first, and spare him the trouble. After this thought he forgot to think any more and occupied his time with wondering if the spider in the corner was a descendant of Ungoliant, and if it was going to drop on Elrond's head.

'Lindir,' said Elrond at last, 'we've been sitting here for over three hours. If you don't think of something soon I will make you personally put on Glorfindel's next birthday party.'

It's amazing what a threat can do for your intellect. I think it was the shock of it that jolted Lindir's brain into brilliance.

'We need some way to make them realize how ridiculous it is,' he said quickly, rambling in order to give himself time. 'They need to see how silly it looks.' He looked at Elrond. Elrond looked interested. That gave Lindir a small bit of confidence. 'We could start an advertisement on TV,' he continued, 'and have someone really stupid looking promoting it, and...'

'Wait a minute,' said Elrond, jumping up and pacing the room, 'I'm way ahead of you.' He began to bite his nails and looked very excited. 'The advertiser would have to look extremely silly. I know just who to use!' He smiled.

'Glorfindel, of course,' agreed Lindir, jumping up too, and almost as excited at Elrond.

Elrond looked surprised. 'No, I didn't mean Glorfindel,' he said. 'I was talking about you!' He beamed.

Lindir made this face: O.o again and sank back into his chair with a strangled, moaning sound in his throat.

'Never,' he said.

'All right, then,' said Elrond, rubbing his hands together, 'It's all settled.'

Lindir fainted.

* * *

_Sorry this chapter is so short. More is coming!_


	4. Part One, Chapter 4

**Part One**

_Chapter 4._

_In Which Lindir Plots Some More_

Lindir was more or less a pushover. He couldn't disappoint Elrond; Elrond was depending on him. The world was depending on him. Couldn't he see that all of Arda was in danger? He must be self-sacrificial, and put aside personal preferences for the greater good.

He did... sort of.

Lindir was desperate. Lord Elrond had said No Blackmailing, but Lindir had no choice. Lindir had said No Glorfindel, but now he was at wit's end. Besides, he had tried this before, and it had worked so well that the temptation was too great.

He needed to blackmail Glorfindel.

It sounds more complicated than it actually is. If you know him well, Glorfindel has quite a few weaknesses that one can monopolize on, and Lindir knew him well. As this was a delicate proceeding, Lindir decided to choose the most fool-proof.

Jaffa cakes.

Few knew of Glorfindel's weakness for these delectable treats; in fact, only Lindir knew. They kept it a secret from everyone else because Glorfindel wasn't supposed to eat them. Lady Galadriel had put him on a diet. Lindir himself only knew of it because he had come across Glorfindel sitting in the pantry and stuffing his face one day. He had agreed not to tell, realizing with elvish foresight the advantage of knowing something about his enemy no one else did.

The method was decided; now he had only to carry it out. He approached Glorfindel where he was sitting at breakfast the next morning.

'Glorfindel,' he said, smiling un-innocently, 'may I speak with you for a moment?'

Glorfindel was, of course, suspicious. 'About what?'

'Jaffa cakes,' said Lindir. The blonde's natural elven pallor went paler.

'Lindir,' he hissed, 'do not speak of that here!'

'Follow me,' said Lindir mysteriously. Glorfindel had no choice but to obey. Lindir led him to a dark corner. 'Listen,' he said in a low voice. 'Lord Elrond wants me to do something stupid.'

Glorfindel smiled, then quickly stopped, seeing the look on Lindir's face and knowing the power Lindir wielded.

'I don't want to do it,' Lindir continued. 'I need your help.'

'What do I have to do?'

'You have to offer to do it instead.'

'I'll do no such idiotic thing!'

'Oh?' Lindir smiled un-innocently again.

'A compromise,' said Glorfindel, ever the diplomat. 'I'll get Gildor to do it.'

Lindir cogitated for a moment. He hated to let the chance to pain Glorfindel go, but it would be almost as much fun to see Gildor suffer. 'Agreed,' he said at last.

'Now what is this stupid thing Gildor has to do?' asked Glorfindel curiously.

'Lord Elrond has a plan,' said Lindir, 'to abolish nail painting in Middle Earth.' Glorfindel snorted in contempt. 'Shut up,' said Lindir, 'and listen. He, not being able to think of a better way, has decided that someone must make nail polishing look as stupid as it is. The plan, in its simplest form, is this: a new manicure place will open in Rivendell. This will seem more or less natural, since painted nails are the rage, and Lord Elrond would, of course, wish to be progressive. After the business is established, it will, of course, be advertised. In the newspapers, on the TV, on billboards, etc. This gives us the opportunity we need to make painted nails look ridiculous. Which they already do. Revision: to make everybody realize they look ridiculous.'

'And your job would have been to _be _the advertisement? Haha, Lord Elrond was wise to choose you!' Glorfindel's mouth snapped shut when he saw Lindir's venomous glare. 'All right,' he said, subdued, 'though I don't quite see the need, I will help you with your scheme. I don't understand why you mind nail polish so much. It's not so bad.'

Lindir glared at him in undisguised disgust.

'But don't worry,' continued Glorfindel quickly, 'I know just how to make Gildor do it. Never fear.'

'Get to it, then,' said Lindir.

Lindir's plan worked. Glorfindel, through some secret known only to him (probably blackmail, though perhaps solely due to his charismatic personality) convinced Gildor to offer his services as an advertisement to Glammynails, Inc. However, Lindir did not get away completely scott-free. Lord Elrond (the owner of the new company) needed an advertising manager.

Of course he chose Lindir.

Lindir wrote about his experiences of the next few days in his journal.

Monday, June 23rd

Dear Lindir,

You will hate reading this. It is a terrible reminder of what happened to you on this day, which you will hate remembering. Don't read it. I know you never will, because you never do, and you never have reread all your other entries from years ago because they are so painful. However, in case you someday wish to, change your mind. You will regret it.

Today you began your advertising career: managing Glammynails' advertising branch. It sounds wonderful, doesn't it? You just got a job! If you think this, then you are deceived beyond comprehension. It was terrible.

Your first day went terribly. You realized too late that your job would consist of watching Gildor dancing in front of a camera, waving his fingers around and saying dumb things like, 'Glammynails is what we do.' 'You deserve a Glammynails today!' 'Eight out of ten owners who expressed a preference said their cats preferred Glammynails.' You had to stop after writing this. Writing this was giving you heart attacks.

You almost went insane. In fact, maybe you did.

Do elves go insane?

Your only consolation was that you weren't the one acting ridiculous. Some consolation.

Now that you are thoroughly depressed, I will leave you to your bad memories.

Sincerely,

Lindir, your previous self

But Lindir survived.

* * *

_Authoress' Note: Lindir Rules!_

_ Please review! _


	5. Part One, Chapter 5

**Part One**

_Chapter 5._

_In Which the Plot Either Fails or Succeeds_

_(Lame title, I know, but I can't exactly tell you which it does, now can I?)_

The thing that was perhaps worst about Lindir's situation was his employer.

Legolas had come up from Mirkwood expressly to recommend himself to Elrond when he heard that Rivendell wanted a nail salon. He thought himself exceptionally gifted at the art, and eagerly begged to be proprietor of Glammynails. Elrond reluctantly agreed. Lindir did not.

'I will not be employed by a dandified elf prince who things glitter is "beautiful". "Beautiful"! He calls it "Beautiful"! Despicable! And what's worse, he looks like a vampire because he gets it all over himself. Talented indeed!'

But Lindir was again reminded of his duty to Middle Earth by Elrond.

Gildor enjoyed those days. He became a pop icon because of his frequent appearances on TV and billboards (the latter of which sprung up mysteriously all around Rivendell, where they had been outlawed before). In fact, frequent isn't the right word for his television appearances; they happened about every five minutes.

It was about a week after the start of Lindir's job that Elrond began to worry about him. Lindir was growing thin and pale- well, thinner and paler. He didn't eat much and refused to go outside with Gildor (no one could blame him, because wherever Gildor went people would say, 'Oh, look, it's the Glammynails dude!' and Lindir didn't particularly like being seen with someone known as the Glammynails dude). Elrond worried, mostly because he had estimated that it would take approximately three weeks for the general public to awaken to the serious consequences of nail polish, and if Lindir fell ill (or died) before that time he would have to find a new advertisement manager.

'Lindir,' he said, 'I need you to survive. Your survival is crucial to the plan.'

Lindir didn't seem to care. He walked around like a zombie, and when anyone tried to talk to him he usually answered with the expressionless statement of the word 'nails'. Gildor's advertisements were an all-new sort of advertisement: he came on screen, holding a bottle of pink, glittery nail polish between his manicured fingertips and saying as he smiled inanely at the camera, 'Glammynails: you deserve it.' (This slogan Elrond had made up, and was quite proud of it. 'Not only is it catchy,' he observed, 'but it is also entirely true!') Gildor's advertisements were quite boring, and even Lord Elrond could not ask for it to look more ridiculous.

So Elrond couldn't figure out why Glammynails was doing so well. Legolas was making twice his yearly allowance, and his father refused to support him anymore because he was getting too rich. He was making even more than the owner of Mirkwood Manicures. By the end of the fourth week Elrond was no longer worried that Lindir would ruin the plan; he was worried that the plan would ruin itself.

'Why isn't it working?' he said, storming into the library where Lindir was lying under the couch. No one knew why. It's just something he had started doing since getting the new job.

Elrond, of course, did not get an answer from Lindir. But he stayed and kept talking, because talking to someone, even if it be an unresponsive someone, is very therapeutic.

'I had it all mapped out. Everyone from the Shire to the sea of Rhun should have realized by now the sillyness of nail polish. But no!' He banged his fist on the arm of the couch, making it, and Lindir, jump. 'Gildor still pollutes Rivendell with his bedecked fingers; Galadriel still haunts the shades of Lorien with those detestable, sparkly pink hearts; nail polish is getting sold out at Glammynails faster than Legolas can order it. Even Arwen is wearing the stuff, though it goes directly against my command. Why isn't it working? I don't understand! Valar preserve us. If this continues for much longer, I will personally hire Sauron to take over Middle Earth and enforce anti-nail polish laws.'

Lindir moaned in agreement. So he was awake. Or at least alive.

'We need a new plan,' groaned Elrond, flopping on the couch.

It is said that when life looks darkest, when Middle Earth is in the gravest danger, always someone will rally to save the day. Perhaps that is why Lindir suddenly had a flash of brilliance. He dropped his pathetic apathy, rolled out from underneath the lounge and jumped up, a strange look on his face.

'My Lord,' he said, 'If I might make a suggestion.'

Elrond forgot to answer for a while, because he was so surprised at Lindir's change of attitude. His face was positively lit up.

'Well?'

'Did you know that the common saying "'til the cows come home" has been twisted by the maladjusted populace of Middle Earth to be "'til Gorbag paints his nails"?'

Elrond was horrified. 'No,' he said, trying to recover from the shock.

'Well, it has,' said Lindir bluntly. 'Now what if Gorbag really did paint his nails?'

'What?'

'If Sauron's minions, Nazgul, Orcs, Balrogs, etc., were to actually paint their nails, it wouldn't be cool anymore, would it?'

'No.'

'Well, then, that's my plan,' said Lindir, crossing his arms triumphantly.

'What do you mean?' asked Elrond. 'You don't propose to try to paint Gorbag's nails, do you?'

'Oh, it's easy enough to photoshop,' said Lindir, shrugging carelessly. 'I could spread it all over the internet. Imagine: "We painted our nails before it was cool" with a picture of a glittery Gorbag, plus a few Barrow Wights and maybe a Wring Wraith or two. It would go viral on Tweetbook and Giggle-.'

Elrond thought for a while. 'You know,' he said, 'that just might work.'

'It's worth a try,' said Lindir.

Elrond put the plan into action immediately, stationing Lindir at his own private laptop to edit the image of Gorbag (which Lindir mysteriously had on a hard-drive) and stationing himself near the library door to keep unwanted people out.

It was done in no time (though Lindir did have a little trouble with the photo editor saying that he was using an illegal image). Using Elrond's password gave them immense sway over what showed up on people's browsers (one of the perks of being a Lord, I suppose), and it was quite easy to manipulate it so that no matter what you searched for, the image would appear. Lindir had also figured out how to post it on the profile of every person on Tweetbook.

'It's amazing what you can do with the internet and Elrond's password,' he thought, sitting back and surveying his work.

* * *

_Yes, it is. :D There you go; next chapter will be up soon._


	6. Part One, Chapter 6

**Part One**

_Chapter 6._

_In Which Everything is Almost Back to Normal_

That evening Glorfindel was surprised to see Lindir at dinner. Lindir hadn't come to dinner for four weeks; in fact, Glorfindel hadn't seen him since the blackmailing incident. He had heard about Lindir's job as advertising manager for Glammynails, and could guess what a horror it was for him. He wondered if he had lost his job; he could think of nothing else that would cheer Lindir up so much.

'Why, what's the matter, Lindir?' he asked in a friendly manner.

'Why would anything be the matter?' said Lindir. 'I'm great!'

'Well,' hesitated Glorfindel, 'you came down to dinner, so I just assumed that something must be terribly wrong.'

'No, I'm fine,' Lindir assured him.

Someone decided to turn on the TV at that moment. The first thing on the screen was a large picture of Gorbag and his Nazgul buddies, with large red letters across the top of the picture reading, 'We painted our nails before it was cool'. There were chokes and gasps from all sides.

Lindir smiled. Then he noticed that Glorfindel seemed to be very red. For an elf.

'What's the matter?' he asked.

Glorfindel flushed more and put his hands quickly behind his back. But not quick enough.

'Sky blue,' thought Lindir, 'I knew it.' He smiled condescendingly at Glorfindel. He almost felt fond of, and rather sorry for the golden-haired elf. Until the image of Gildor dancing around on the television with glittery nails and saying, 'All you need is Glammynails and a dream' flashed into his head.

His pity left Glorfindel and flew to himself.

He would never recover from that traumatic experience.

**Epilogue**

Nail polish was swiftly removed from every aspect of sophisticated Middle Earth life, as people everywhere shunned it as fell. Elrond's (and Lindir's) purpose was accomplished.

Gorbag was at first very angry at the libel and denied having ever worn a blot of nail polish, but soon stopped protesting, beginning to like the popularity it got him. He even got his nails polished (polish was cheap at this time, and could even be found by the roadside, abandoned by former fans) to keep his reputation of nail-polished villainy.

Lindir did recover from his pitiful advertising career. But he thinks (as well as Elrond) that he never fully regained his mental and emotional health. He however tends to look on the bright side, being happy he survived.

And besides, if nothing else, their end was attained: never again did nail polish pollute Middle Earth (at least not the civilized parts).

* * *

_The End! _

_Of part one. I think more parts are coming. Expect utter and complete randomness in the days ahead. I mostly just write without thought of plot, etc. Beware!_

_Please review! :D _


	7. Part Two, Chapter 1

_Authoress' Note: _  
_You dudes are totally awesome! I was overwhelmed by the many wonderful reviews the first part got. Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are so encouraging. Each one of you is so much fun to hear from! And I love profile pictures, don't you? They can give you such personality, you know? :D Thanks again, and here's the first chapter of (drum roll and music notes of destiny) Part Two!_

_P. S. How this title came about: I was listening to film soundtracks (weird? yes; but I love that kind of music. Don't ask why, I don't know!) and one of the songs was called 'Bastian's Happy Flight' (I think it's from The NeverEnding Story, but I don't know. I haven't seen that movie). I liked the title and the song, so I decided to STEAL it. *evil grin* If you want to, you can listen to the music on grooveshark._

**Part two: Lindir's Happy Flight**  
Chapter 1.

Lindir was weary.  
He had a rather stressful existence, when you think about it. His job consisted of being a minstrel (this can be extremely stressful if Elladan and Elrohir are around to make fun of your mistakes) and doing whatever random things Elrond wanted him to do at the moment.  
'It's really not fair,' he often thought; 'Erestor is supposed to do all Lord Elrond's dirty work.' But Lindir did his duty as a good elf should, and expected nothing more than his wages.  
So he was surprised when Elrond said to him one day, 'Lindir, you look weary.'  
Not only was he surprised; he was also a little worried. Lindir knew more than most of Elrond's obsession with healing people, and he didn't particularly enjoy it when he was the object on which Elrond practiced his talent.  
'Lindir, I think you need a vacation,' continued Elrond. Now Lindir was really worried. Did Lord Elrond find him unnecessary? Was he unwanted, unneeded?  
'I'm going to send you to Minas Tirith,' said Elrond. 'King Elessar I am sure will be pleased to welcome you, and it's so peaceful there, not at all like Rivendell.'  
'Milord,' said Lindir, his elven pallor disappearing and being replaced by a slight flush, 'I am perfectly rested. I do not need a vacation, I assure you.'  
'Come now, I insist!' insisted Elrond. 'If you do not get a rest soon you'll drop.'  
'Are you sure Gondor is a restful place?' asked Lindir doubtfully.  
'Oh, yes,' said Elrond. 'They have a golf course. I even hear they have an inner-city swimming pool. And Rohan's not far away; you could go there once in a while and watch their polo matches. I hear Gamling is an epic player.'  
'I don't like horses,' said Lindir, still doubtful.  
'Well, don't tell Eomer that. Anyhow, you will go, won't you?'  
'You sound as if you want me to go away,' said Lindir, rather offended.  
Elrond shifted uncomfortably. 'Well,' he said slowly, 'as a matter of fact, yes I do. You see,' he hastened to explain, 'Legolas is coming for a visit.'  
'Oh,' said Lindir. Now he understood.  
Ever since the fateful day when Lindir began his short-lived advertising career he had not been able to stand the sight of Legolas. Surprisingly it had not always been this way. Lindir used to be best friends with Legolas; he spent hours thinking up ways to annoy him, and spent more hours carrying them out, causing him and Legolas to be together very frequently. He was attracted to Legolas the same way an angry bull is attracted to a flapping red cloth. They went together like chili and hot sauce. But since that fateful day, as I have said, Lindir couldn't even enjoy harassing Legolas anymore. When Legolas was around he began to do strange things, like hide under couches or climb up chimneys. Doing these things made him look insane.  
Elrond didn't really care if Lindir looked insane or not, since Lindir in his opinion was*** insane; but when Legolas took reports back to King Thranduil about Lord Elrond's mad minstrel he began to grow concerned.  
'You see the necessity of such an action,' said Elrond.  
'I do,' agreed Lindir. 'I will go to Gondor. But,' he added as an afterthought, 'don't let Elladan in my room. Last time I left he replaced all my harp strings with spaghetti noodles.'  
'Deal,' said Elrond promptly. Hard as it was to keep Elladan out of Lindir's room, it was harder to make Lindir act natural around Legolas.  
'Now you promise you'll go to Minas Tirith?' he asked again eagerly.  
Lindir raised his eyebrows suspiciously. 'Yes. I already said I would.'  
'All right, then,' said Elrond, smiling in relief. 'No backsies.'  
'What trickery is this?' asked Lindir, growing more and more suspicious.  
'Gildor is going with you,' said Elrond, and began to walk away very hurriedly. 'No backsies, remember?'  
Lindir's blood began to boil. But what could he do against his employer? He growled something not very elf-like and went to pack his bags.  
No elf ever traveled light. If someone tries to make you believe one did, he is plotting some strange plot against you. Elves can't travel light. There are a multitude of things that are (or seem) absolutely essential to them. The main things are hair products and accessories.  
There are certain things Lindir always takes with him everywhere. One of them is his mandolin. Another is his large plush shark. He also takes a box of lembas whenever going some place. So Lindir packed even heavier than most elves.  
But much as Lindir packed, it was nothing to what Gildor was bringing. I cannot name every useless item the blonde took with him, but as an example, his stuffed warg took up a whole saddlebag.  
Lindir was quite uncomfortable on the journey. For one thing, he disliked horses, and had to bear the company of three to carry him, Gildor, and their paraphernalia. For another thing, he disliked Gildor, and had to bear his company for the whole journey. He began to wonder within five minutes if he had been wise to head towards Minas Tirith.  
It took a very long time to get there. When at last he saw the peak of rock jutting out of the city he was almost ecstatic. He had been to Minas Tirith before, a long time ago, but he didn't remember much about it.  
'Perhaps I shall enjoy the golf,' he thought.


	8. Part Two, Chapter 2

_Authoress' First Note:_

_OneSizeFitsAll pointed out in a review that I used an idea of hers. In 'A Resort for Random Elves' her main character is sent off on a vacation, and doesn't want to go. A similar thing happens in my last chapter. So sorry to OneSizeFitsAll! Believe me it was unintentional. So give her some credit for the last chapter. I sometimes forget where my ideas came from, and attribute them to my own genius when they're from something I heard or read or saw :P_

**Part Two**

Chapter 2.

Lindir and Gildor entered Minas Tirith.  
'Ah, Gildor!' said King Elessar, striding to meet them. 'Lord Elrond told me you'd be coming. Oh, and welcome, Lindir,' he added as an afterthought.  
'Er, yes,' said Lindir, embarrassed. Everyone was looking at them. That was one of the reasons Lindir didn't like royalty. People were always looking at them.  
'Come, let's go to the palace. It's about time for dinner,' said Aragorn.  
Lindir's prospects seemed to brighten at the mention of dinner. He was hungry. Lembas isn't really all it's trumped up to be, and he hadn't had anything else for the whole journey.  
Dinner was over far too quickly for Lindir's tastes; why were men always in a hurry? But there was lots of dessert, so he decided he didn't mind so much.  
After dinner the men and Elves began to discuss boring, political matters, like 'Would Galadriel get angry if we harvested any lumber from Lothlorien?' and, 'If she did, could we withstand a full-out Lothlorien invasion?' and, 'Why not?'  
This Lindir was not interested in the least. But then something caught his ear.  
'What are you going to do to enforce the anti-base-jumping laws?' someone asked King Elessar.  
Lindir remembered hearing Lord Elrond speak of that. He said it was very dangerous, and lured many young, naive Elves and men to untimely ends. Lord Elrond made everyone who traveled to Minas Tirith have a special pass if they weren't over 1,000. He was worried that the base-jumping would decrease Imladris' population.  
So Lindir listened to the next part, thinking that perhaps he could bring back some good news to Lord Elrond on the subject.  
'I don't know,' admitted King Elessar. 'It's getting worse and worse; in fact, the other day I found a whole line-up out there. The guards were having trouble stopping them.'  
'If I might make a suggestion,' said one man. 'If you were to sentence to death everyone who did it (and survived), it would discourage people from attempting it. Either they would die, or they would die. They would have no chance of survival.'  
'That is an idea,' said the King, rubbing his scruffy chin thoughtfully. (Lindir wondered why he still didn't shave, not having the excuse of being a ranger anymore.) 'Well, then, write it up and I'll sign it.'  
'Yes, my Lord,' said the man, and went off to do this task immediately.  
Dinner ended and the crowd dwindled slowly. Lindir went to bed early, being tired from his journey.

The next day, Lindir sat under the white tree of Gondor. It was a nice place to get a tan, since the sun shone directly down in that spot and the tree did not offer much shade, but Lindir wasn't particularly interested in a tan.  
He was trying to relax by playing his mandolin.  
It wasn't exactly working. For one thing the guards that were standing around looked excessively annoyed.  
'These mortals don't appreciate good elven music,' he sniffed, and played on, but he was irked all the same.  
Then to complete the ruining of his day his arch nemesis walked up and slapped him on the back.  
'Lindir! How good to see you again!' It was Legolas.  
Lindir succeeded in only breaking two strings of his mandolin. He recovered himself pretty well under the circumstances, but couldn't think of anything to say, not being able to return the compliment.  
'Well, well, Lindir,' said Legolas again. Lindir cringed. Why did Legolas have to bother him of all people? Poor, innocent Lindir! What had he ever done to deserve this?  
Well, that's another (very long) story, so I won't go into it at the moment.  
Lindir's self-pitying thoughts were interrupted by Legolas speaking again:  
'I have a favor to ask of you,' he said.  
Worse and worse. If there was anything more terrible than Legolas, it was Legolas asking a favor.  
'What favor?' asked Lindir, a strong sense of foreboding seeping through him.  
'We can't talk here,' said Legolas in a mysterious whisper. 'We'll discuss this tonight. Same place at 22:00.'  
Lindir was forced to comply, because immediately after this Legolas disipated into the atmosphere and vanished.  
Lindir, once Legolas had left, started the long process of recovering from the shock, while at the same time restringing his mandolin. Within three hours he was sufficiently calm, and was able to go to lunch. But he was excessively annoyed; Legolas was supposed to be in Rivendell. He had left so that he wouldn't have to see him.  
'Bother that Elf prince,' he huffed.  
But Lindir noted that his reaction to a surprise Legolas wasn't as bad as it had been the last time. He brightened at the thought; it meant that he was healing from his PTLS (Post Traumatic Legolas Stress)! Maybe in a year or two he would be completely better.

_Authoress' Note:_  
_Authoress' note is the funnest part! (Is 'funnest' even a word? Pop poll: review and tell me if funnest is a word or not!) Speaking of which, this one is super super long. Oh, well; I love asserting my authoressness, you know? Anyway, please review! Thank you for all the reviews I have gotten! I love them like chocolate...almost. Everyone have a wonderful day and go eat some cheesecake for no reason! And I'm using way too many exclamation marks! But periods look so gloomy, don't they? _

_So I have some assignments for you (besides eating cheesecake): take my awesome poll (answer the one I mentioned in a review, and I also have one on my profile), and look up my new awesome community. It's mostly Erestor stories right now, so if you have any more stories to suggest, please do! Thank you!_

_P. S.: Erestor says that everyone should write a Sick!Aragorn fic. Oh no! I don't have one! Should I write one? Yes? No? Review!_

_!_


	9. Part Two, Chapter 3

_Authoress' Note:_

_Sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter up. I've been looking for a beta that fits my very picky taste. :P I'm kinda afraid to permanently choose one, because what if she/he stops getting on fanfiction dot net, or what if they stop liking my story, or what if...? You get the point._

_I just realized that the abbreviation for the title of this story is LOL. Lol, lol, I love it! XD It's this story's destiny to be hilarious! Now live up to that, Life of Lindir! _

**Part Two**

Chapter 3.

Lindir showed up at the rendezvous that night, firstly, because he was a pushover, secondly, because he was curious, and thirdly, because he thought that perhaps if he pushed himself to be with Legolas it might heal him faster.  
Legolas was already there. He looked very spooky, a dark shadow under the white tree of Gondor.  
'Aaahh,' Legolas hissed (if you _can_ hiss that word), 'so there you are. I was beginning to be afraid you'd been caught.'  
'Caught?' Lindir gulped. 'Why would I be caught?'  
'Oh, Gondorian soldiers are pretty sly,' said Legolas airily. 'If they'd seen you, they would have caught you.' Lindir wanted to ask why they would have caught him, but he was having difficulties with his voice box at the moment. It only wanted to squeak.  
'Now listen,' Legolas went on. 'I need your help.'  
'Before we go on,' said Lindir, interrupting, 'can you tell me why you're here, and not at Rivendell? Lord Elrond said that Thranduil was sending you there.'  
'Yes,' said Legolas uncomfortably, 'but I elected to ignore that command. I mean, I'm always working. I needed a vacation. Anyway, as I was saying: I need your help.'  
'With what?' asked Lindir suspiciously.  
'Base-jumping.'  
Lindir almost fainted.  
'You are aware that this is against the law,' Legolas continued. 'Therefore it will have to be done in the utmost secrecy.'  
Lindir stopped hyperventilating with an effort. 'Do you happen to know,' he said slowly, 'that there has been a new law made about base-jumping?' Legolas did not. 'It states that anyone who survives a base-jump will be sentenced to death.'  
Legolas looked startled. Lindir felt smug. 'Hah,' he thought, 'I've settled him!'  
'It does not signify,' said Legolas, shrugging. Lindir choked. 'All it means is that we must do it in even more secrecy. In the dead of night. No one must know it was us.'  
'Us?!' Lindir turned pale. This was going too far. 'I am **Not** going to base-jump. And that's final!' He began to walk away.  
'Wait,' said Legolas, 'that's not what I meant. I don't want _you_ to base-jump; I want you to help _me_ base-jump.'  
'Help?' asked Lindir, turning back to face Legolas again. 'How?'  
'Originally it was to guard my back, to stop any blade-happy Gondorian soldiers from stabbing me. Now it's that, and in addition to that being my witness.'  
'In court?' asked Lindir dubiously, 'because you should know that I would tell the truth, so it wouldn't help you much.'  
'No, no,' laughed Legolas. His laugh was so annoying. 'I mean, if I have to do this in secret, and no one is to know who it was, what good is it? None of my friends will believe me if I say that I did it. So I want _you_ to tell them, too.'  
'Friends?' asked Lindir. Somehow he was surprised that Legolas had any. 'But if I tell them, everyone will know it was you who jumped off!'  
'Ah, but they won't have proof,' said Legolas. 'Come on, Lindir, it's the least you can do!'  
'Why don't you just get your friends to help you?'  
'It's complicated,' said Legolas. 'I don't think they would.'  
'So you're coming to an enemy, to try to get him to do something for you your friends won't?'  
'Well, yes,' said Legolas, as if that were natural.  
What can I say? Lindir is a pushover.  
'Oh, all right,' he said.

* * *

_Authoress' Note:_  
_I've noticed that there are never enough chapters to put in all the authoress' notes I want to. Oh, well; I'll deal with it (by putting two in this chapter XD). Today I have a question for you all: What is your favourite Middle Earthian weapon? Axe, sword, bow, knife, gunpowder :D, Morgul blade, bare hands, mace, none of the above? Please review and tell me! Oh, I almost forgot: add the Precious to that list. That's everybody's favourite weapon, right? :D I look forward to hearing from you!_

_P.S: I might just write that Aragorn fic...Hmm, I just need a bit of inspiration. It may take a little while, but it will be here someday! :D_


	10. Part Two, Chapter 4

_Authoress' Note:_

_Hello, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it! And I have another question for reviewers:_

_If you could live anywhere in Middle Earth, where would it be? The Shire, Minas Tirith, Rivendell, Mordor, Mirkwood, the Lonely Mountain, Mount Doom, as a few examples?_

_And about my favourite weapon: I think mine would have to be either a morgul blade, a bow, or the Precious. :P Morgul blades seem very deadly; the Precious is really powerful; and everyone cool shoots bows. Seriously. Hawkeye, Kili, Emma and Mr. Knightly (in the Gwyneth Paltrow version of Emma), and even Hiccup in HTTYD 2. I'm sure there's more that I can't think of right now... anyway, they're really cool. :D_

**Part Two**

Chapter 4.

'Now this is how we'll do it,' said Legolas, glancing furtively around. 'We'll meet up at ten tomorrow night back here again; I'll have the parachute. All you need is a stick or something.'

'A stick?'  
'Yes. For knocking the guards out.'  
'Guards?'  
'Well, there might not be any,' Legolas added hastily. 'The stick is just a precaution.'  
Lindir thought he would need a more deadly precaution.  
'You got it?' asked Legolas. Just then four guards walked up. 'Yo,' said one of them, 'what are you doing here?'  
''Um, hatching plots. -I mean, nothing!' Lindir said quickly.  
'What he means,' said Legolas, glaring at him, 'is that we're planning Glorfindel's surprise birthday party.'  
Lindir gasped.  
'Oh, sure,' said the guard. 'Invite me!'  
There was a singularly uncomfortable silence.  
'Um,' said Legolas.  
'Sorry, but we have to stay here,' said the guard. 'To make sure no one base-jumps.'  
A strangled growl came from Legolas' throat. 'Oh, all right. Lindir and I will go talk somewhere else.'  
He grabbed Lindir's arm and dragged him away to his room.  
'Curses!' he yelled, once the door was safely shut. He kicked over the trash bin. 'Snap, snap, snap! Foiled!'  
'Calm yourself, Legolas,' said Lindir, sitting down in a convenient arm chair. 'It won't kill you to not base-jump. In fact, it will probably do the opposite...'  
Legolas did not seem consoled. 'Bah,' he said, stomping to his desk and pulling out some paper, 'time for a new strategy.'  
'Oh, give it up,' advised Lindir. 'You'll never succeed, and if you do you'll never survive.'  
'It appears that there are no guards during the day,' said Legolas. 'We'll have to do it sometime when they're not around. But in the daylight everyone will recognize me.'  
'You could always wear a disguise,' Lindir observed. He facepalmed. Why did he say that?  
'Good idea,' said Legolas. 'That won't be too hard.'  
'Yes,' agreed Lindir. 'All you have to do is cut your hair.'  
Legolas looked appalled. 'Oh no. Such drastic measures will not be necessary, I assure you. We'll do the old stand-by; fake nose, mustache, glasses. Glasses? No, sunglasses are cooler.' He drew something on his paper, Lindir couldn't imagine what. 'We'll have to wait until the day after tomorrow,' Legolas continued, 'because tomorrow will be spent in surveillance. We must discover what hours the Minas Tirithical rock is free of guards and pestilential pedestrians.'  
'You, Legolas,' said Lindir, yawning, 'not me. I'm tired; I think it already _is_ tomorrow. I'm going to bed.'  
Legolas did not respond; he seemed to be cogitating his new plan. Lindir left and wen to bed, not waking until ten the next morning.

* * *

_I just realized how very short this chapter is. Sorry about that; another one should come soon, and hopefully it will be longer. :D_


	11. Part Two, Chapter 5

**Part Two**

Chapter 5.

By the time Lindir awoke, breakfast was over. Having nothing else to do he wondered out onto the rock, and found it to be extremely windy. He didn't like wind; it messed up his hair.  
'Ah, Lindir!' said the all too familiar voice, and Legolas appeared. 'I have discovered what time,' he said.  
'Oh?' asked Lindir, interested. He thought he was speaking of lunch. 'When?'  
'Now.' Lindir brightened. 'There's no one about. All I have to do is get the parachute and disguise. I'll be back.' He disappeared.  
Of course, Lindir knew what he was talking about now. He resumed breathing in time to prevent death by suffocation, and began looking around for a stick. He wished he had taken the time to find a kitchen knife.  
Suddenly he was aware of another presence making its way out onto the rock. It was rather hard not to be aware of; it carried a very large, multi-coloured kite-like thing. It was, in fact, Gildor.  
'Whatever are you doing, Gildor?' asked Lindir.  
'I'm going para sailing,' said Gildor happily.  
'But that's against the law, isn't it?' asked Lindir. (There had been several deaths from para sailing off Minas Tirith, too, but that is another story.)  
'I have a licence from King Elessar,' said Gildor, getting it out and flapping it in Lindir's face.  
Legolas appeared again.  
'What?' he asked.  
'Nothing,' said Lindir, trying to straighten his face. Apparently Legolas' plan of disguise had survived the frequent revisions of his strategy.  
'What are you doing here?' asked Legolas of Gildor.  
'He's para sailing,' explained Lindir.  
'You. Out. Now,' said Legolas, helpfully pointing the way for Gildor.  
'I'm para sailing!' protested Gildor. He tugged at his flying device. 'Lindir, will you help me get this thing over there?'  
Lindir shrugged and began to pull at the para sail. Legolas growled and tapped his foot impatiently.  
'Now how exactly does this work?' Gildor wondered, once the para sail was in place.  
'You mean to tell me that King Elessar gave you a licence to para sail when you don't even know how?' Lindir yelled above the wind.  
'I guess,' said Gildor. 'It's probably due to my friendly personality.'  
'Why didn't I try that?' Legolas wondered.  
'Woah, it's blowing aw- Catch it, Lindir!' yelled Gildor.  
The para sail, caught by a large gust of wind, made a desperate attempt to escape the clutches of the two elves. And it partially succeeded; Gildor wisely let go, but Lindir did not. Before he knew what was happening, the earth dropped away from beneath him and he was miles up in the air.  
I shall not say that he did scream, and I shall not say that he didn't. I shall leave that to the reader's imagination.  
'Valar preserve us,' he said, hanging on for dear life. Or perhaps his life wasn't so dear; Lindir would say it wasn't, but he held on all the same.  
If Lindir would have noticed, it was the perfect day for para sailing. The sky was blue, with only a few clouds scattered here and there. It was not too hot, and not too cold. The wind currents were strong. The view was beautiful. If Lindir would have been less stressed, he could have had a very happy flight.  
But, truth to tell, Lindir was too busy hanging on to have time for thinking of anything else. I don't think he enjoyed it much, and I don't think he'll ever do it again.  
The next night Lindir staggered into Minas Tirith- or rather, his horse, which he had borrowed from some Rohirrim or other, staggered. He stumbled off of it.  
'Oh, hello Lindir,' said Gildor cheerily. 'Where did you put my para sail?'  
'It's in a cow field somewhere in Rohan,' he said.  
Gildor looked worried, and went off calling for a horse.  
Lindir continued his stumbling until he found Elessar.  
'Hello,' said the king. 'You went para sailing without a licence, you know that?' He shook his finger up and down in Lindir's face.  
'Of course I know that,' Lindir snapped. Then he added nervously, 'What's the penalty?'  
'Oh, three years in the cooler,' said the king airily.  
Lindir opened and shut his mouth several times.  
'But don't worry,' said Elessar, 'Lord Elrond has bailed you out.'  
Lindir sighed in relief. So he had at least one friend. He decided not to ask for that raise after all.  
Suddenly he remembered. The cause of all his troubles...  
'Where is Legolas?' he asked apprehensively.  
'Right now he's in the hospital.'  
Lindir started. 'What for?'  
'A broken femur, I think. And some other bone, I can't remember which right now. And some minor bumps, bruises, cuts, and black eyes, etc.'  
Lindir noted the plurality of 'black eyes.' 'What happened to him?' he asked.  
'He tried to base-jump off my city, that's what happened to him. He was attacked by my faithful guards, but still managed to leap off...'  
'And he is not dead?' asked Lindir in astonishment. Not disappointment. Really.  
'No,' said the king sheepishly. 'He didn't make it to the ground beneath. The jury decided that his base-jump didn't qualify for the death sentence. I'll admit it was rather disappointing. We've never had an execution before.'  
This interesting conversation was interrupted by two soldiers walking up.  
'Yo, Lindir,' said one of them. 'When did you say Glorfindel's birthday party would be?'  
The king looked interested. 'You're planning Glorfindel's birthday party? Oh good! Now I won't have to do it, like Elrond asked me to!' He walked away, whistling happily and completely out of tune.  
Lindir groaned.  
'Why didn't I let go of the para sail?' he wondered.

* * *

_Authoress' Note:_

_I think it's about time for Lindir to have a bright spot in his dull existence. He needs some sunlight in his tragic life. What do you all think?  
Should he have something nice happen to him for once?  
Please review and let me know! :D _

_P.S.: I have started my Sick!Aragorn fic. The first chapter should be up soon; get ready to see our favourite Ranger suffer! *muahahaha*_


	12. Part Three, Chapter 1

_Note: Here, finally, is part 3. Sorry it took so long; I was working on the Sick Aragorn fic. But now that that is completed, this should move more regularly. By the way, this is from Legolas' pov, just so no one is confused._

_Disclaimer: I don't think I've been doing this for this story, so I'd better do it now. I do not own these characters, not one single one. ;( But despite that, I can make them do whatever I want! The amazing advantages of writing fan fiction..._

**Part 3**

**Happy Birthday**

Chapter 1.

I have to confess that I just love tormenting Lindir. It's just so fun to watch him squirm. Besides, it's so _easy_ that it's impossible to resist the temptation.

Now, you might be under the impression that Lindir is always unhappy and always in some sort of trouble. This is not the case. Lindir actually leads a very happy life, and is even usually cheerful.

The problem is, he's so _annoying_ when he's cheerful. He makes up horrible songs about the Valley that don't exactly rhyme. At all. Well, maybe by a large stretch of the imagination. And then he _sings_ them. Believe me, it's even worse than you think.

So I find it my duty to humanity to make him miserable, simply because if I don't he would make everyone one else. Miserable, that is.

I have quite a bit of experience and am quite good at it, though I say so who shouldn't. I have found out a great deal about Lindir that most people don't know. For example, there's something in particular that he _really_ hates.

He hates being called Figwit. If you so much as mention the name in his presence he will get up and leave the room. If you use the name in reference to him he will get up, leave the room and slam the door. And if you actually call him it, he will get up, leave the room, slam the door, and not speak to you for the rest of the day. That's how I know he hates it; normally when I do something he dislikes he only blinks.

Though I have found out by my own genius means that he hates the word 'Figwit', I have not yet figured out why. However, being the brilliant Elf that I am, I realize the 'why' doesn't matter so much, just as long as it _does_ annoy him. And it never ceases to.

Well, it didn't until that episode of the Blonde's Birthday Party.

Somehow (no matter what Lindir may say about it, it had nothing to do with me), someone had gotten the bright idea that Lindir was going to plan everyone's favourite blonde's birthday party. No, not me; Glorfindel, the brave blonde balrog-slayer. I _hate_ that guy. He thinks he's special because he resurrected; but he's nothing much. He doesn't have a King for a dad. Ha!

Anyway, somehow this rumor popped up, and everyone was like, 'Hey, when's it gonna be, man?' (That's how Gondorian soldiers talk.)

Well, Lindir was in quite a jam. He doesn't like Glorfindel any more than I do, and the idea of planning his special day did not appeal to him in the least. He told me himself, and this is in his own words, that he'd 'rather plan his death-day party'. And those are strong words from Imladris' mild minstrel.

Well, I felt pretty good for a few days. With Lindir worrying about planning the stupid party, I was free to walk Rivendell undisturbed by the usual instrumentation that was generally seeping through the background and proceeding from Lindir's happy harp (which I couldn't escape, by the way; I had been banished from Mirkwood and sent to Imladris for some slight thing I did, but that's another story). I don't like instrumental music, nor do I like Lindir's singing style; I prefer good old Mirkwood jazz. Or Isengard rap. Or (don't tell dad) Orthanc heavy metal. Lord Elrond has no taste.

So I was happy. For a little while. But you know, when you've been doing something for years, it's rather hard to give up all at once.  
That's why I found myself almost unconsciously calling him Figwit one day.

'Figwit,' I said, 'is there any tea left?'

Suddenly Lindir's face lit up, as if in inspiration. It startled me, rather, and bothered me exceedingly. What had I done? Had I accidentally brought down upon Imladris the curse of Lindir's happy trilling once more?

'Excuse me,' he said, 'I must be off at once.' He had this hopeful look on his face, as if he had a plan he hoped would work. (As you can tell, I'm extremely perceptive.)

'Where are you going?' I said, relieved. Maybe he would go somewhere else to sing.

'Nowhere in particular,' he said. He was right.

'LLIINDIIIIIRR!' yelled a voice. A very recognizable voice. It was Lord Elrond.

'What is it, my Lord?' asked Lindir, cringing.

'Where are those streamers?' asked Lord Elrond, entering the room.

'S- streamers?' asked Lindir. He looked confused.

'Yes. Streamers. Streamers. S-t-r-e-'

'My Lord,' he quickly interrupted, flushing slightly, 'I understand what you mean by streamers now. But I don't understand what you want streamers for.'

Lord Elrond looked surprised.

'Why, for Glorfindel's birthday party, of course!' he said. 'I think they should be light blue.'

Lindir smiled weakly. 'Yes, baby blue does just seem to be his colour,' he agreed. He teetered a bit, and held onto the back of the chair he had vacated when Elrond had entered. He looked rather faint. I began to almost, _almost_ feel sorry for him.

'Yes, well,' said Elrond, putting his hands behind his back. 'I trust your preparations are going well?'

'My Lord,' said Lindir, glancing at me as if he wanted me to leave (which I didn't. Why should I? I wanted to finish breakfast), 'I don't think that I will personally be able to make it to Glorfindel's birthday party. Perhaps someone else...'

'WHAT?' roared Elrond. Lindir cringed again. He has such weak ears, you know; he just can't handle angry Elven Lords. He's rather soft. 'Where are you going to be?'

'I was planning on a vacation,' he said. But he didn't look very confident.

'Vacation?' said Elrond. 'You'll get your vacation when _I_ say. I didn't say you could go anywhere!'

'Yes, my Lord,' he said weakly.

I watched with some amusement. Lindir scowled at me. He wanted me to leave. Exactly why I was staying. Though I was enjoying finishing up the marmalade while I was waiting.

Lord Elrond left. Lindir didn't seem in as bad a mood as I had hoped for.

'Don't touch that,' he said, as I reached for some sheets of paper he had left on the table. He swatted my hand away. 'You'll get marmalade on it.'

'Wuewr,' I said, shrugging and helping myself to more muffins. 'Wuf in dif?'

'Please speak Elvish,' he said, sighing in exasperation.

I attempted to swallow, but having too much in my mouth at the moment I didn't succeed exactly well. I began to cough. Lindir smirked. I _hate_ it when he smirks.

He walked off whistling, clutching his precious papers and looking much too cheery for someone who had imminent planning of Glorfindel's birthday party to do.

I choked, and brought my feet off of the table with a bang. I would get to the bottom of this.

_Note: Please review~ tell me what you're doing this summer. :D _


	13. Part Three, Chapter 2

_Note: Yay for Mirlasse being the fiftieth reviewer! :D :D :D Thanks to all my reviewers, you guys rock! Also all those who favourited or followed this story, I love you all!_  
_Here is the next chapter. This part only has four, but I think they're all longer than usual._  
_Also, I should put a warning here. Lots of usage of fell words (mainly it's alluding to a certain evil Vala. Also much immaturity on the part of two Elves. _  
_The part with Gildor and Galdor does not have much to do with the story; I just felt like putting them in. :P_

**Part 3**

Chapter 2.

'By Melkor's minions,' Galdor cursed, 'what is that?'

Gildor gasped and backed away, holding up his hands to guard his face from the pure fell-ness. 'Do not speak of such things here,' he told his companion. 'In fact,' he added after a moment's thought, 'do not speak of them anywhere.'

Galdor rolled his eyes. 'Fine, then,' he said. 'By Gandalf's beard, what is that?'

'That's an improvement,' said Gildor.

'You're not answering me!' yelled Galdor. 'I asked what it was!'

'Stop yelling,' said Gildor. 'It's a salad, that's what it is.'

'Oh, it is?' said Galdor. 'What in Valinor's name is in it?'

'Oh, just some greens,' said Gildor casually.

'Is it spinach?' asked Galdor suspiciously.

'Dum de dum,' hummed his friend, pretending not to hear.

'Huh,' growled Galdor, thumping down onto a rock and picking up his bowl. 'I don't understand why the bad guys get to use fell words and fell cloaks and fell weapons and fell everything that's cool, but it's us who have to eat the fell food: greens.' He took a bite. 'By Melkor,' he cursed again, spitting it out.

'Stop saying that,' cried Gildor, looking pained.

'Melkor, Melkor,' said Galdor. 'Melkor Melkor Melkor.'

'I'm not LISTENING!' called Gildor, jumping up and down with his hands over his ears. 'Da de da dum de lade dum do trally!'

'MELKOR!' yelled Galdor.

'BLEEEEEEEEP!' yelled Gildor, trying to drown out the sound.

'I'll stop saying it if you let me go back and get a sandwich!'

'No! You're supposed to be on a diet!'

'Melkor, then,' said Galdor. 'Melkor Melkor.'

'You could at least say Morgoth instead,' said Gildor. 'That's tamer.'

'MELKORRR!'

'Aaaahhhh!' Gildor screamed.

Just then Merry walked up.

THUNK. He banged them both on the head. (This was harder than it sounds; they were both standing up, and though Merry was tall for a Hobbit, he had a hard time reaching the tops of their blonde pates.)

The two Elves fell to the ground.

'Ow,' observed Galdor.  
'By Mel- I mean, by Galadriel's mirror,' said Gildor. 'That's what I meant.' He nodded vigorously.

'Where did you two learn such language?' asked Merry, plopping down on the grass beside them. 'You been hanging out with Nazgul or something?'

'Nope,' said Gildor. 'Cross my heart and hope to die.'

'Yes he has,' said Galdor.

'Galdor!' said Gildor, horrified. 'You told!'

'Yes I did,' said Galdor serenely. 'You see, my little half-pint hobbit friend, we were kidnapped.'

THONK

Thonk is a good word. It's exactly the sound that Galdor's head makes when you bang on it. A kind of a sort of a hollow, muffled, echo-y sound. A very pleasant noise. Merry decided to do it again.

THONK

'Little half-pint?' he repeated. 'For the love of the halls of Mandos!'

'Speaking of the halls of Mandos,' continued Galdor, readjusting his head, 'we almost went there. It was quite interesting, really.'

'We were taken through the black gate,' said Gildor. He shivered.

'And there we met the Mouth.'

'Whose mouth?' asked Merry.

'Sauron's Mouth,' said Galdor. 'He took us into Mordor and we were stuck there for days on end, being tortured by Orcs.'

'Until we escaped,' said Gildor cheerily. 'Now we're making our way back to Rivendell.'

'The Havens,' corrected Galdor.

'No, Rivendell,' said Gildor. 'I don't want to go to the Havens.'

'Well, I do!' said Galdor.

'Oh shut up,' said Merry, getting ready to thonk them again.

At that moment, Lindir walked by, leading a horse and surrounded by many other random Elves who wished to escape precipitously to Valinor before tickets sold out. Or someone burned all the boats. Or something like that.

Needless to say, Gildor and Galdor were quite surprised to see him.

'How now, it's Lindir the fair!' cried Galdor.

'Lindir? Here?' asked Gildor, though he could see him plainly. He was the convenient kind of Elf that asks all the questions that have obvious answers. This kind of Elf is convenient because then there is someone to listen to you when you state obvious facts, which Elves are very fond of doing.

'Ssssssss,' hissed Lindir, 'I'm traveling incognito.'

'Traveling in what?' asked Gildor.

'He said traveling in Cogneto,' said Galdor superiorly.

'What's going on?' asked Merry.

Lindir stepped out from among his companions and tiptoed towards the trio. 'Hush, not a word,' he said. 'I'm traveling as Figwit the non-existent, and I wish no one to know that I am really myself.'

'Why?' asked Gildor.

'It's a long story,' said Lindir. 'Let me sum up. I, through reasons that are too long to recount, must plan something that I don't want to plan. I, for reasons that are too many to count, do not want to plan that thing that I don't want to plan. I, through genius too great to be understood, have evolved a plan to escape planning that plan that I don't want to plan. I, as you can see, have almost succeeded.'

'What?' Galdor said.

'Huh?' asked Gildor.

'Forget it,' said Lindir. 'But who is this young halfling?'

'I am Meriadoc Brandybuck,' said Merry cheerfully. 'Who are you?'

'I am Lindir of Imladris. I mean Figwit. I'm Figwit. But I haven't much time; I need to be getting to Valinor before Lord Elrond finds out.'

'Can I come?' asked Merry.

'Why don't you want Lord Elrond to know?' asked Gildor.

'See?' said Galdor, 'I told you we should go to the Havens. If we go to Rivendell you're sure to spill the secret.'

'I would not,' said Gildor.

'Goodbye,' said Lindir, who was tired of having his time wasted.

Just then the group was startled by the appearance of Arwen. 'Lindir!' she said, 'my father is looking everywhere for you. Come on; he has some advice about the party decorations or something.'

Lindir winced. Why did Arwen have to happen by just when he was about to make his escape?

'A party?' said Gildor.

'Ok, fine, we can go to Imladris,' said Galdor.

'Can I come?' asked Merry.

'No,' said Lindir nastily. He was losing his temper. 'Goodbye, my lady, I am leaving and never coming back.'

'Oh, Lindir, don't leave,' said Arwen. 'We _need_ you!'

Lindir is a pushover.

* * *

Lindir went back to Imladris, dragged by Gildor, Galdor, and Arwen. When he arrived, Lord Elrond was waiting for him. I was there, too. It was, of course, my brilliant brain that had thought of the idea that Lindir would try to escape to Valinor. Of course, I didn't say this to Elrond; I merely hinted that maybe he had gone to the Havens for a visit. It was enough; immediately Lord Elrond had sent out his daughter (who he wanted out of the way for a while anyway) to find him. Lindir guessed my part in it, I think, because he shot me deathly glares.

'Lindir,' said Lord Elrond, 'you shouldn't be going to the Havens when you have so much planning to do! You have to organize-' here his voice sank to a very audible whisper- 'Glorfindel's birthday party!'

Lindir's frown turned devious. 'Legolas has offered to plan it, though,' he said evilly. Seriously, he said it so evilly that I could feel the evilness pulsing through the air.

'...!?' I thought.

'Oh, really?' asked Elrond, his face lighting up. 'Then it shall _really_ be done right!'

I had the satisfaction of seeing Lindir scowl. It wasn't very consoling, though.

'My Lord Elrond,' I said carefully, 'I believe that Glorfindel would appreciate it more if it was someone who he was _very_ fond of. Like Lindir.' I consider myself a gifted diplomat, though I sometimes make mistakes (like that time I told Aragorn that he looked terrible; I had to give him a nice necklace I found so that he wouldn't kill me), and I decided to use this talent in the present instance.

'Oh, but Glorfindel _likes_ you,' said Elrond significantly. More satisfaction in the form of Lindir's scowls.

'Lord Elrond,' I said even more carefully, 'I would be more than happy to advance the funds for the party. However, I'm a very busy Elf, you know, with all the album-signings*.'

'Oh, yes, of course. How thoughtless of me,' said Elrond understandingly. 'Don't worry about it, Lindir will take care of it.'

'My Lord,' Lindir protested, 'I've got a rather busy schedule, too. I'm in the middle of a song...'

'Yes, we know, Lindir' I said loftily. 'Write a song, sing a song, play a song. Endless repeat. You're extremely busy, obviously. Of course.'

Lindir's scowl is very therapeutic.

'Make time, Lindir,' said Lord Elrond. 'Why did you commit to it in the first place?' Lord Elrond smiled cheerily and left.

'Score,' I said.

'Mordor,' cursed Lindir under his breath.

I smiled.

* * *

*Legolas was famous at this time for his rap single, 'They're Taking the Hobbits to Isengard'. He was very rich from the proceeds of this, and his father had stopped supporting him because he had enough money on his own.

_Note: Me again! I just wanted to tell those who read my other stories (you guys are amazing!) that my 'Middle Earth: Its Mental Condition' might be getting updated soon. If it does, it will probably be the already existing chapters getting edited, not new chapters being added. I was thinking of putting more about each character in each chapter. Anyway, just so you know that, when you see it's been updated. :D_


	14. Part Three, Chapter 3

**Part 3**

Chapter 3.

Lindir's attempt, though futile, worried me somewhat. Would he try again, and this time would he succeed? I decided to lie low and be invisible for awhile.

Until I remembered that I had rashly agreed to fund the party. Immediately, visions of gold confetti and mithril party favors flashed into my mind.

'Billions of monstrous deathly spiders,' I cursed, and ran to find Lindir.

I found him. He was surrounded by about a dozen Elves, each saying something and none of them listening to the others. At first I didn't see him in the throng. He isn't the sort of person who is in crowds; he's always by himself, separate, alone. And I could tell he hated being in this one.

'Off of my foot,' he said to someone. _Someone_ didn't listen.

'I'll do the cake,' said Elrond, who happened to be one of the Elves that thronged the minstrel.

'My Lord,' said some lady who happened to hear, 'I've already volunteered for the cake.'

'Nonsense,' said Lord Elrond. He said something else, but it was drowned out by his son.

'I'm doing the confetti,' yelled Elrohir.

'No, me!' said Elladan.

'No, me!' said Gildor and Galdor, both at once.

Someone's fist somehow got in someone's eye. The ensuing scuffle was by no means bloodless, and it, for a moment, distracted the Elves.

I pulled Lindir aside while I had the chance. 'Lindir, old chum,' I said in my friendliest tone, 'perhaps I'll help plan it after all.'

Lindir raised and eyebrow, not bothering to hide his surprise and suspicion. 'Why?' he asked dubiously.

'Well,' I said, 'I've sort of had some inspiration, you know. An idea. For the party. I thought perhaps that my input would be helpful.'

I believe Lindir by this time had worked out my motive. His scowl slowly morphed into a smirk.

'Well, now that it comes to it,' he said sweetly, 'I think I can handle it. I've begun to-'

He was cut off by Haldir running into him. Literally.

'Lindir,' said Haldir breathlessly, 'I've come to volunteer for decorations.'

'That's what _I'm_ doing,' said the pushy female who wanted to do the cake. Chaos began. I should say, continued, shouldn't I?

I could see Lindir weakening. I tried another approach.

'Of course, not helping would give me more time,' I said. 'Come to think of it, perhaps I shouldn't.'

'Fine,' said Lindir, at last. 'You can help. But remember: all final decisions are mine. I get the veto power. Agreed?'

'Agreed,' said I. I smirked. And then remembered what I'd gotten myself into. I sighed.

'Snap,' I observed.

* * *

The preparations for the party began.

Thankfully, dad had artfully invited Glorfindel to Mirkwood for awhile so that we could carry on without him noticing. If he hadn't, the party would have never been a surprise. Well, it would still have been a surprise, but not the kind of surprise we were hoping for.

'Legolas,' said Lindir to me as we were both thronged by many helpful Elves, 'we need a system. Some sort of something to organize this.'

I somehow knew what he meant.

'What do you propose?' I asked, shoving someone off of my foot.

'A list,' he said, 'with everything that needs to be done written on it. Then people can sign up for what they want to do.'

'Good idea,' I said. 'GET OFF OF MY FOOT!' I added in an aside to a careless Elf.

'I'll go get the paper and write it out,' Lindir said calmly, and ignored my wrestling with the careless Elf.

'Excuse me,' he said quietly to the general crowd. Of course no one heard him. 'Excuse me,' he said, louder.

'SHUT UP!' I yelled. Ha, it worked. I love feeling how powerful I am.

'Ahem. You must stop bothering Legolas and me for now, we have work to do,' he said. 'Come on, Legolas.'

'I followed him to the study.

'Now,' he said, getting out pen and ink, 'what is there that must be done?'

'Cake and ice cream,' was all I could think of.

'Well, let's see,' he began. 'Someone will have to do the invitations; there will be cleaning; decorations; party favours...'

I suppose I wasn't very helpful at this time. I'm not good at things like making lists. I'm more skilled in jumping around on Mumakil.

Lindir finished.

'I'll need your voice again,' he said dryly, as we went back to the room we had been in before.

'EVERYONE BE QUIET!' I said. 'I- I mean, _we,_ have an announcement.'

'I have a paper here,' said Lindir, 'that has all the jobs that need to be done. Each person can sign up for one thing, and only one. Is that clear?'

He put the paper on the table. There was a mad rush.

'I'm doing the confetti!' yelled someone.

Lindir moaned.

* * *

When the paper was gotten back, everything was assigned except for bathroom cleaning. No one wanted to do that.

Some things had more than one name on them. Ice cream and confetti both had Elladan, Elrohir, Gildor and Galdor's names scrawled in wherever they would fit. Cake had Elrond and Cilivren written beside it.

Lindir sighed.

'Oh, well,' I said consolingly, 'I'm sure they'll work it out.'

He didn't look very consoled. He stomped off to find the twins and Gildor and Galdor. I followed him, because I felt like being entertained.

They happened to be together, fighting over who was doing what.

'Lindir!' yelled one of the twins, 'I said I'd do the confetti first.'

'No, I did!' said Gildor.

'You can all do the confetti,' said Lindir, 'but you will have to share.' He tugged on his hair. 'Why do I have to treat you like three-year-olds?' he yelled. Well, nothing Lindir does comes close to _yelling,_ but this was the loudest I'd ever heard him say anything.

Galdor shrugged. 'I'm doing the ice cream, anyway,' he said.

'No, you're not,' said Lindir.

'I'll do the ice cream,' I said helpfully. 'Then you people won't have to fight over it anymore!' Lindir glared at me. 'What? I thought it was a brilliant pl-' I was cut off, for suddenly I was under a heap of Elves.

'I'm doing it!' they yelled.

'Very well then,' said Lindir, 'each person can pick out one flavour.' He said it to make the Elves get off me, but he took an awful long time about it.

'That's settled,' he said. 'Now to find Lord Elrond.'

'No, we should find Cilivren,' I said. 'If she makes the cake it will be coconut, and I want chocolate.'

'Coconut is good,' he said.

'Chocolate is better,' I replied. Irrefutable.

He hesitated, deciding whether to prefer coconut to spite me, or to choose chocolate because that would be more delicious.

'Very well,' he said at last, 'Chocolate it is.' He went to find Cilivren.

He came back a moment later with great speed. 'Under the circumstances,' he gasped, 'I think it would be wisest to let Cilivren do the cake.'

Then he was gone, and an angry female rushed past after him.

Poor Lindir. Oh, well, it wasn't my problem. Anyway, he's a fast runner.

* * *

_A/N: Over sixty reviews! *dies of happiness* Thank you to all reviewers, readers, favouriters (this should really be a word by now), and followers! You guys are amazing. May the force be with you! ~~~~~~~~~ *fade out*_


	15. Part Three, Chapter 4

_A/N: This is the last chapter of this part. ;( Unfortunately, that may mean that this won't be updated for a week or so, as I work on writing part four. But I've already started it, so it shouldn't take too long! :D Enjoy. _

**Part 3**

Chapter 4.

The day of the party came. Everything was ready, and we waited only for Glorfindel to return from Mirkwood.

Well, everything was ready _except _for the bathrooms, which no one would clean.

Lindir stood at the end of the hall, rubbing his temples nervously.

'Don't worry,' I said.

'Every time you say that, something terrible happens,' he snapped.

I would have said something cutting and clever in reply, but we were interrupted by Gildor.

'Glorfindel is coming,' he yelled.

Lindir gulped.

Several minutes later Glorfindel walked into the main room. No one was there.

'Surprise!' yelled everyone, and jumped out from behind random objects.

Glorfindel was so surprised that he almost loosed an arrow towards Lord Elrond's head.

'Happy Birthday,' said Lord Elrond.

'Uh,' said Glorfindel.

'Let's eat cake!' someone said. I think it was Elrohir.

'Presents!' said Elladan. 'Presents first!'

'Confetti!' yelled Gildor and Galdor.

That substance immediately covered everything. I was _really_ annoyed; that stuff is so hard to get out of my hair.

Lindir was more annoyed then me, though, because he hates sparkly things. I can make confetti-y hair look cool, but he can't. One of his fates, I suppose.

Glorfindel was very good about it. He smiled wanly and shook everyone's hand in the nicest manner he could. Then he opened the presents and remembered to thank everybody. I never do; there's always someone I miss, and then I don't get a present from him the next year. Glorfindel is very talented at making everyone like him.

'CAKE!' yelled Galdor.

I had put the candles in the cake, and I must say that it looked very impressive. The candles I had gotten myself; they were those sparkler candles that look like fireworks. I got them from Gandalf, of course.

I brought out the cake and proudly pushed it in front of Glorfindel's face.

Then we sang 'Happy Birthday To You' in the most awful way possible. I think Elrond started it, because it was way too low for most of the Elvish voices present, and then someone slowed way down at the end so that it felt like a dirge. I hate that song. People always sing it in this annoying way: really fast at the beginning as if they're trying to rush through, and then slowing down at the end as if they decided they like it and don't want to stop. Ugh.

And then someone started singing it again.

My arm was tired, and I almost dropped the cake into Glorfindel's lap. Thankfully _someone_ (you know, I have a feeling it was one of the same two _someones_ each of these times _someone_ did something, and I think it was the two _someones_ whose names start with E) slammed a hand over the person's mouth who was singing, and Glorfindel blew out the candles.

Tried to.

There were lots and lots and lots and lots of candles on that cake. I didn't know exactly how old Glorfindel was turning, so I had just covered every inch with candles. And it looked like a beacon by the time I had lit it. Or a porcupine on fire. Whichever mental image you prefer.

Amazingly, Glorfindel managed to blow them all out.

Then they re-lit themselves.

'Gandalf!' I yelled. 'What trickery is this?'

'I don't know,' he said. 'I got those from a Hobbit.'

'Was it Pippin?' I asked.

'Well...' he said uncomfortably.

'Someone get the fire extinguisher,' shouted Elladan.

'No!' I said. But too late.

But it wouldn't have made much of a difference, because the cake was unfit to eat anyway. It had a crust of wax an inch thick on it.

'No worries,' said Elrond. 'I've got another one!'

'I told you Cilivren was going to make the cake,' I said.

'_I'm_ Lord Elrond,' he said, 'and what I say goes. Besides, aren't you glad I did after all?'

I had to admit that I was. Chocolate is better, anyway.

Then the ice cream was brought in.

Never send four immature Elves to buy ice cream. They came tromping in, each balancing six quarts of ice cream in their hands and on their heads.

I remembered with woe that it was my money which was paying for this.

Well, we had our ice cream and cake, and everything from then on went pretty well.

'Speech!' said Galdor. 'Speech from the birthday Elf!'

Glorfindel stood up. He looked rather worn out.

'As you all know,' he said, 'I am a very old Elf. But old as I am, I have never had a birthday as- exciting as this one.' We cheered. 'I will take this opportunity to thank those who worked so hard on this excellent party; especially the ones who organized it.' He coughed. 'Lindir and I have been good friends for a long time,' he lied. 'I don't know where I'd be without him. Everybody give him a round of applause!'

It was a lie, but a nice one. That's how Glorfindel is. He pretends to be nice to everyone, but he's mean when no one's looking.

Lindir flushed scarlet and tried to duck under the table. I grabbed him and held him still.

'Thank you again, my friends,' said Glorfindel. 'Goodnight.'

He walked over to where I was wrestling with Lindir.

'Hello,' he said. 'How goes it?'

'Badly,' said Lindir.

'Good,' said I.

'Ahem,' he said, 'did you know...' he paused.

'No,' I said.

'I think there was a slight mistake with dates,' he said.

'Oh?'  
'Yes. Today was not the day I was born, nor is it even the day I resurrected.'

I felt a nameless foreboding, and gasped. 'Oh, dear,' I said.

'Today was the day I died.'

There was a snort behind me. I turned to find Lindir trying with all his might to look superior and wise and trying very hard not to laugh.

'Did you do that on purpose?' I asked suspiciously.

'No,' he gasped. 'I swear. But I rather wish I did.'

Glorfindel laughed. That surprised me. If I had been him I would have stuck an arrow into Lindir in some painful spot.

'I shall always remember this birthday party, at least,' he said.

'Well, you were very kind not to mention the mistake in front of everybody,' I said.

'Oh,' he said, 'I'm saving that for blackmail material.' He walked away.

Lindir's smirk evolved into a look of horror.

'I had nothing to do with this,' I said. 'Nothing.'

* * *

I still don't know what Figwit is, or what it means, but perhaps someday I can find some blackmail material of my own to use on Lindir to find out. Whatever Figwit is, I hope it doesn't have something to do with birthdays. I'm rather not looking forward to my own now.

* * *

_Blackmail is Forevaaaa! I want a t-shirt that says that...  
Note: If you don't know who Figwit is, I may explain it more in another part.  
__Sparkler birthday candles: have you guys ever used them? We had some, and they seriously did relight themselves. I don't know whether they were defective, or if that's just what they normally do, but it was weird. o.O  
__Thanks to ccgaylord for the whole cake idea. Her stories are awesome, and I highly recommend them. There's a really funny one she's working on at the moment, called 'Survival of the Fellowship'._

_Of course, please review! You silent readers, you are awesome, too, but you'd be awesomer if you reviewed! :P_


	16. Part Three, b Interlude

A/N: This is just a very quick one-shot to hold you over until the next chapter. It's coming! I had lost my notebook, though... O.o But I've found it now, so all I have to do is transfer the story onto the computer! ... :(

* * *

_Set: A beautiful grassy green hillside. **FRODO BAGGINS** is standing, waiting for someone._  
(En. Gandalf on old cart)  
**Frodo:** Thou art late, Gandalf.  
**Gandalf:** Nay, Frodo. A Wizard knoweth not what it is to be late, nor doth he know what it is to be early. He arriveth precisely when he meaneth to.  
**Frodo:** I am pleased that thou hast returned.  
(Ex. Frodo and Gandalf)  
_Set: Int. Bag End_  
(rap on the door)  
**Bilbo (offstage):** Get thee hence! I want not any distant relations, wishers of wellness, or other sundry.  
**Gandalf (offstage):** What and if I were a very old friend?  
(Ent. Gandalf)  
**Gandalf:** How now, Bilbo!  
**Bilbo:** Gandalf! Is this the Wizard I see before me?  
(another rap on the door)  
**Bilbo:** How now! A rat?  
**Lobelia Sackville-Baggins (offstage):** Bilbo Baggins! Open thou this door!  
**Bilbo:** 'Tis the Sackville-Bagginses! I am not at home! (hides)  
(Ent. Lord Elrond)  
**Gandalf:** Wait, what? (looks at script)  
**Lord Elrond:** What's going on?  
(Ent. Galdor and Gildor)  
**Galdor:** We're rehearsing a play!  
**Gildor:** -eth!  
**Gandalf:** Huh? (searches script) Where are my glasses? I can't see this thing...  
**Elrond:** A play...?  
**Galdor:** Yes, a play-  
**Gildor:** -eth! I keep telling you to call it 'Playeth'!  
**Galdor:** No, that would only be if it were 'plays' plural...  
**Lord Elrond:** (face-palms) I should never have assigned the Shakespeare reading... Just exactly whose idea was this?  
(Ent. Lindir)  
**Lindir:** Galdor's.  
**Galdor:** Gildor's.  
**Elrond:** In other words, both of you. Everybody out of my study, except the two miscreants!  
**Galdor:** But the play!  
**Gildor:** -eth!  
(Ent. Glorfindel)  
**Glorfindel:** Go play somewhere else. I need to talk to Lord Elrond... in private.  
**Elrond:** There are too many people in my study!  
**Galdor:** But the study looks the most like Bag End...  
**Elrond:** Out.  
**Bilbo:** Frodo, you don't happen-  
**Lindir:** Off my foot, you fool  
**Bilbo:** -to have anymore-  
**Elrond:** Exit immediately!  
**Gildor:** But-  
**Galdor:** We-  
**Bilbo:** -of that pipeweed?  
**Lindir:** Ouch!  
**Glorfindel:** Lord Elrond, I wanted to discuss  
**Frodo:** I don't smoke. I got fumiphobia after I went to Mordor...  
**Gildor:** -want to perform-  
**Galdor:** -the play-  
**Lindir:** Glorfindel, call off the insolent puppy who is sticking marshmallows in my hair  
(Sudden appearance of the twins)  
**Glorfindel:** Valar preserve us  
**Bilbo:** Oh, that's right; with all the publicity you-  
**Elrond:** Aah! I dropped my circlet...  
**Elrohir:** I'll get it!  
**Elrond:** Nooo-  
**Glorfindel:** Lindir! What did you do to Elladan?  
**Lindir:** Don't worry, he's immortal  
**Bilbo:** -get, you wouldn't want to promote smoking. It's bad for Elves.  
**Galdor:** I want to try it!  
**Elrond:** THAT'S ENOUGH! EVERYONE OUT THIS INSTANT!

* * *

There you go! The next chapter will be here soon. Thank you for waiting; you guys are amazing.

Special thanks to Gigigue for beta reading this. By the way, go read her stories. They're really good (esp. Lord of the Phones).

Question: Do you want more Shakespearean Middle Earth?

Please review! :)


	17. Part Four, Chapter 1

_Surprise! I'm finally back! I hope to be writing more frequently now, but whether I will or not remains to be seen. :) Anyway, here is the beginning to another part of Lindir's Life. I apologize for the brevity; I wrote it in my notebook and it seemed much longer when writing it out by hand. ;) Enjoy, review, and check out my profile for news about the Fan Fiction Christmas Countdown project I'm doing with some allies. It's awesome and is only getting better. Also, thank you to Gigigue, my beta, for beta-ing this chapter._

**Part 4.  
Lost and Found  
**

Chapter 1.

Legolas was back.

He was on an extended vacation here in Rivendell again. He takes too many vacations (especially extended ones), and he always comes to Imladris for them.

Legolas was back, and he was just as annoying as ever.

"Lindir," he said, casually shooting an arrow past my head, "stop that infernal racket."

"You missed," observed Galdor, who unfortunately happened to be around.

"That was on purpose!" said Legolas.

"It was not," insisted Galdor.

"I could have hit him if I tried," said Legolas.

"Prove it," said Galdor.

Legolas would have, too, if I hadn't already disappeared out the window, leaving my harp in a heap on the floor.

I wondered vaguely once more as I made my escape WHY Lord Elrond allowed Legolas and Galdor to stay here. The twins he was obliged to treat well, them being directly related to him and all; the same was true of Aragorn and Arwen. He rather owed Glorfindel a debt for saving Arda with the slaying of the balrog; but to Legolas and Galdor he owed nothing. Why did he (and more importantly, why did he make ME) put up with them?

I scowled as I climbed the tree to my bedroom window and wondered for the hundredth time what was to be done about the situation.

I needed a break, so I decided to catch some butterflies. Catching butterflies is very relaxing. It calms the nerves and soothes headaches, and I find it helps me think. So, grabbing my trusty butterfly net, I once more descended the tree and headed for the far corner of the grounds, where I hoped against all hope that none of my bothersome friends would be.

Lord Elrond was there. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, because Lord Elrond does not throw knives in random directions (like Galdor) or stick caterpillars down your back (like the twins). He simply sat and read, being quiet (thanks be to the Valar!). His mere presence, however, put a damper on my spirits, for I couldn't keep negative thoughts from crowding my mind.

It was then, as I listlessly waved my net around, that I came up with "The Idea".

Perhaps "The Idea" wouldn't have been so appealing if Lord Elrond had been the kind of Elf who looks cheery and innocent. But looking at him glaring into his book, his eyebrows making an ill-humoured "V," I did not feel "The Idea" to be all that unkind.

"The Idea" was this: blackmailing Lord Elrond into sending Legolas and Galdor home.

I smiled behind my butterfly net at the thought. It was irresistible! It would solve most of my problems, and I would get rid of two Elves with one stone, if you get my meaning.

And I had the perfect blackmail material.


	18. Part Four, Chapter 2

_A/N: Hello! I did not realize how much I missed writing this until I started again. I have a whole huge list of ideas for more LoL parts... :) Too much to write and not enough time. Anyhow, I have a new thingy on my profile. I'll be posting 'Fan Fiction of the Week' and 'Reviewer of the Week' from now on as often as I can. If you don't have enough to read, just head over to my profile and look at the suggestion. _

_Also... I've been considering... writing an alternate to Life of Lindir... called Life of... Legolas...? Should I? Should I not? Do I have way too many stories to work on already? (yes) Do I want to? (yes) Tell me in your reviews whether I should write it or not._

_One more thing; I was impatient, so I didn't wait for my beta to send back the chapter. All mistakes are mine. _

**Part 4.  
Lost and Found**

Chapter 2.

...And I had the perfect blackmail material.

I decided to start putting my plan into action as soon as possible. Dragging my butterfly net behind me, I slunk out of the furthest corner of the garden and into a slightly closer corner of the garden. I purposed to proceed straight to my abode, but I was rudely interrupted by a voice.

"Forsooth! If it isn't Lindir!" said the voice, and Glorfindel materialized. At least he seemed to. In actuality, all he did was descend from a tree he was foolishly perched in.

"Glorfindel," I observed astutely.

"Why do you say my name as if it was the title of your worst enemy? Or the species of caterpillar you find in your luncheon salad? Or the brand of cologne that Legolas uses?" he asked.

"One of those is close enough to reality," I began, but my worst enemy ignored me and continued.

"I come with glad tidings," he said.

I brightened in spite of myself. I admit, I like gossip. "What?" I asked. "Has Mirkwood burnt down?"

"No, said Glorfindel. I ignored his pained expression.

"Oh, then it was Lothlorien? I always expected that to happen. Lady Galadriel glows too much. Especially for one who sleeps in trees. Something is sure to catch on fire! And anyways, it's too close to Mordor."

Glorfindel shuddered when I mentioned Mordor. He shudders at all things that have any connection to fire or doom. I often wonder how he ever killed a balrog, for he'd be shuddering every moment. But then again, perhaps fighting the balrog is what brought forth the shudders in the first place.

"No," he said, "Lothlorien is not burnt down. I said it was glad tidings, remember?"

"Yes, I remember," I said, "I just forgot that Lothlorien burning down was not glad tidings."

Glorfindel looked at me in an odd sort of way for a moment. "I just don't get your sense of humor." He sighed. "Anyhow, where did I leave off? Oh yes: glad tidings. Elladan and Elrohir are going away to visit Thranduil Elven-King-"

"And they're taking Legolas with them! Oh, happy day!" I waxed eloquent. "Oh, happy, happy, happy day; Legolas is going away!"

"Stop hopping about like that; you'll give me seizures," said Glorfindel. "You remind me of a chicken with its head cut off."

I frowned. "It's called 'dancing,'" I said.

"Dancing like a chicken with its head cut off," he mumbled. "Anyways, I was not finished. They are not taking Legolas with them."

Going from the heights of delight to the depths of despair in a split second is not conducive to good health.

"You have noticed, I'm sure," Glorfindel continued, "that Thranduil Elven-King never invites Elladan and Elrohir over when Legolas is home unless absolutely necessary. The twins and Legolas are too much for anyone."

I may have, at this point, made an unruly growling noise. I am to be pardoned, however, because I had great provocation.

"Too much for anyone," I mumbled, and wondered for the hundredth time why Elrond put up with too much. He isn't the martyr type.

Glorfindel sighed, making me start. I had been lost in my own thoughts. "Elladan and Elrohir, at least, will be gone," he said consolingly. "That's some improvement."

"Well, next time," I said testily, "don't come to me singing about 'glad tidings' and making me expect something that nice." Perhaps this wasn't fair of me, for Glorfindel was right. Elladan and Elrohir being gone would be a significant improvement. Still, I had considerable trouble in cheering myself up again, until I remembered my plot.

"Oh, yes," I said, rubbing my hands together gleefully.

Glorfindel looked at me askance, but in a half-hearted sort of way. He was used to my oddities, and only looked at me askance to show any possible onlookers that he, at least, was sane.

"Goodbye, Glorfindel," I said more cheerily.

"Goodbye, Lindir," he said airily. "Have fun with your plot."

"How did you know about that?" I sputtered.

"Oh, you just looked so devious," Glorfindel explained. "Lindir, you'll hate this, but I have to break it to you—I can read you like an open book."

I smiled sweetly and bonked him on the head with my butterfly net. Then I departed to change my attire for dinner.

'After dinner,' I thought, 'after dinner I will carry out my plan.'

* * *

_'My Lord Elrond,' said Glorfindel in a rather nervous, hushed voice. 'Something's the matter with Lindir.' _

_'What on earth are you talking about?' asked Elrond, puzzled. 'And what is that on your head?' _

_'Does it look bad?' asked Glorfindel, alarmed. 'Anything but that! Is it bleeding?' He rushed to survey himself in a mirror. _

_'But what were you saying about Lindir?' asked Elrond, following him. 'Is he sick?' _

_Glorfindel moaned at the sight of the large red bump on his head and turned back towards Elrond. 'He hit me over the head with a butterfly net.' _

_Elrond blinked. 'That sounds reasonable,' he said. _

_Glorfindel stomped impatiently. 'No, no,' he said. 'This is Lindir we're talking about. Lindir is a pushover, remember? If it were Legolas, that would be normal. But Lindir? No. Something's the matter, my Lord.' _

_Elrond began to see his point. His brow furrowed. 'I'll have to look into it,' he said. 'I hope he's alright.' _


	19. Part Four, Chapter 3

_A/N: Hi everybody. Finally the next chapter. So sorry for the long wait. Thanks to my beta, Gigigue, for betaing this chapter! Oh, and by the way, the italicized portions at the end of some of the chapters are not from Lindir's point of view, unlike the rest of the part. _

_Please enjoy and review! :)_

**Part 4. **

**Lost and Found**

Chapter 3.

After dinner I carried out my plan. My epically evil, devious, brilliant plan.

First things first—I needed a notebook. And I needed one with Erestor's signature in it.

I crept into Erestor's room. He wouldn't come back in here for a while, for he would be helping Elrond until at least tea time. I had two hours.

It's not hard to find things in Erestor's room. The problem is, it's too noticeable when something is gone. His place is so scrupulously clean that if one object is out of place the eye is instantly drawn to it. I knit my brow in frustration but bravely began rifling through his shelves.

Soon I found what I wanted, a nice empty notebook with nothing written in it but this:

This notebook belongs to Erestor.

And it was written in pencil.

I smiled. Broadly.

On to step two.

Step two was simpler than step one. All I had to do was erase 'This notebook belongs to' and write instead the blackmail information and my own signature. That way it would look like Erestor was another witness to Elrond's secret. I would need his signature; without it no one would believe such a horrible thing about Lord Elrond.

_I hereby declare myself a witness to the fact that Elrond Half-Elven has a tattoo (a thing which was made illegal by Saruman and the White Council in the year 3006, Third Age) on his left wrist. Not only does the Half-Elven Lord have a tattoo illegally, but the design itself is illegal, for it is the ancient writing inscribed upon the One Ring of Power and is not to be uttered (or written) anywhere in Rivendell bythe command of Elrond himself._

_Lindir and_

_Erestor_

I sat back and surveyed my work. 'This will do,' I thought contentedly.

Suddenly a shout rang out. I rushed to the window and gazed down in horror at what was occurring below.

Elladan and Elrohir, dripping blood, were limping into the courtyard. Their clothes were dust-sprinkled and mud-splattered, and one of them was not altogether conscious.

Even as I watched, Lord Elrond rushed out to them, calling out orders and trying to carry Elladan while keeping blood off of his robes.

I turned to exit my room just as Glorfindel barged in.

"Lindir! You're needed straight away in the healing ward. The twins were attacked by a band of Orcs on their way to Mirkwood." Glorfindel managed to convey urgency and importance while remaining perfectly relaxed and unhurried himself. It's one of his talents.

'Glorfindel,' I thought to myself. 'He's going too.' I mentally added him to my list of people to make Elrond get rid of.

"Right!" I said out loud, rushing out of the room and down to Lord Elrond's hospital.

Most fathers, when thwarted in their plans of getting rid of their sons by said sons getting unexpected injuries on the day of departure, would be pretty put-out, but Lord Elrond was not too depressed. He likes to heal, so the mishap made up for itself.

I, however, was very ticked off. Now even if I did succeed in getting rid of Galdor and Legolas, I'd still have to deal with Elladan and Elrohir. I decided quickly that the best way to deal with the situation was to heal the twins as fast as Elvenly possible, send them happily off to Mirkwood again, and pray the Valar they'd get hurt closer to the Elven-King's abode than Imladris (that they would get hurt was a given).

"Lindir," said Lord Elrond, bustling around busily, "I'm in a terrible fix. As you see, Elladan and Elrohir need my full attention. Elladan has numerous flesh wounds and broken bones, and Elrohir, I fear, is not only infected, but concussed. And now Legolas has gone and got a paper cut."

For the benefit of the reader, I will mention that when Legolas gets a papercut, it is something serious indeed.

"I need you," said Elrond, glancing entreatingly at me, "to go fix him up."

I winced. Then I opened my mouth to state my apologies and excuses, but Lord Elrond was already busy glancing at someone else.

I sighed and walked over to where Legolas was lolling on the hospital bed.

"Sit up," I said, banging him on the head with a convenient book. Legolas sat up. "There, there," I said consolingly, "you'll be fixed up in no time. Now hold out the finger."

"It wasn't the finger," said Legolas. "It was my toe."

I stared at him. "How did you even get a paper cut on your toe?" I asked disbelievingly.

Legolas shrugged. "Strange things happen while you're dancing," he said carelessly. "Or maybe it's just a talent I have-"

I sighed in exasperation. "Show me the accursed toe."

"Very well," said Legolas demurely.

"How did this happen?" I asked, rolling up the gauze. "I don't see how it's possible for you to have done this with paper."

"Oh, it's quite simple, really," he said, as if he were proud of his accomplishment. "All that happened was this: Galdor was chasing me with a knife-"

"Hold it right there!" I yelled. "Why was Galdor chasing you with a knife?!"

"Well, you see," said Legolas, imperturbable as always, "I dared him to cut my hair."

"Why?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"Because he said he would."

"So you dared him to."

"Yes."

I groaned. "Then what?"

"Well, we were running through the lounge and I chanced to look back to see if he was gaining on me. At that precise moment, a music stand got in front of me and kabam!" Legolas made a dramatic gesture, sweeping three pill bottles, a glass full of something, and a vase of flowers off the bedside table. "Thankfully I remained upright," he continued, looking disinterestedly at the catastrophe he had just caused."But the music stand was full of music. Before I knew what was happening, I was slipping and sliding around on the sheets of mu-"

"My music!" I cried. "Did you get blood on it?"

"Of course," he said matter-of-factly. "Don't worry, I'm famous. You can now sell those pages for millions where before you'd be lucky to sell them at all.'

I sniffed pitifully. "You're so heartless," I sobbed.

"Blame my dad; it runs in the family."

I recovered myself somewhat and frowned suspiciously. "I thought you said it happened while you were dancing."

"I was referring to Galdor threatening to cut my hair as the strange thing, not cutting my toe. Cutting one's toe is the most commonplace thing imaginable…"

"Lindir!" yelled Elrond, saving me from severely injuring the one I was supposed to heal. "Another patient!"

Galdor was carried in on a stretcher. I gazed in horror.

"What did you do?" I asked Legolas.

"After I slipped on the music, he said I was a klutz. I told him I wasn't. So he told me to prove it..."

"Legolas!" I yelled. "If you were not a prince I'd-"

"Silence in the hospital!" roared Elrond.

* * *

_"My Lord," said Legolas, "something's the matter with Lindir."_

_"I know,"said Elrond. "So Glorfindel tells me. What has he done to you?"_

_"He hit me on the head with a book," said Legolas. "Not only that, but he sobbed angstily when I told him that his music wouldn't sell."_

_"Well, it was rather mean of you," said Elrond._

_"But when I insult Lindir," said Legolas concernedly, "he usually replies with another biting insult. That's why it's so fun. There is something very wrong with him when he can't think of a witty reply."_

_"I suppose you're right," sighed Lord Elrond. "What should I do?"_

_"I'm not sure, my Lord,"Legolas answered._

_"I shall have to keep a closer eye on him," said Elrond._


	20. Part Four, Chapter 4

_A/N: I'm back with another chapter, finally! Special thanks to my beta, Gigigue. Please review! Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! :)_

**Part 4.  
Lost and Found**

Chapter 4.

"_I'm a siiiiillllllhouetttte, asking every now and then,_

_Is it oooooover yet, will I ever smile again?_"

It was the next day, and I was singing angstily.

"_I'm a siiiiiiiillllllhouette, chasing rainbows- no, butterflies- on my own._"

There was a knock on the door.

I frowned and opened it very quickly. Legolas tumbled in and fell sprawling on the floor.

"You needn't open it so quickly," he moaned, righting himself.

"What are you doing here?" I asked irritably. He had interrupted my angsty moment. "Aren't you supposed to be in the hospital?"

"No, I'm all better," he said, wiggling his toe.

"How's Galdor?" I asked.

"Top-notch. He should be cheerily throwing knives at your head again in no time."

I frowned. Well, I was already frowning. I frowned more frownily. "What are you here for?"

"Oh," said Legolas pleasantly, "I just wanted to visit you."

My eyes narrowed. I was instantly suspicious. Legolas doesn't like me. I don't like him. It's well-known and commonly accepted as fact. We don't just visit each other. He had some plot, but I could afford to play along for the moment.

"Sit down," I said, doing so myself. He followed my example.

"Let me get straight to the point," Legolas began. "You are one of the most knowledgeable people in Imladris when it comes to people's backstories, being a ballad-writer. I need your help. You see, I need Glorfindel to do something for me—never mind what—but he refuses. If you can tell me something about him that I could use against him-"

"Wait, stop!" I said, holding up my hands. "Let me get this straight. You're planning…to_ blackmail_ **Glorfindel**?"

Legolas thought about that for a moment. "Well, yes," he conceded.

Needless to say, I was appalled. "Why would you do such a terrible thing?" I said, disgusted. "Of all the low, evil, conniving, ill-bred-"

Legolas whipped something out from under his cloak. "What were you just saying?" He was holding a notebook.

_The_ Notebook.

I gulped.

"Perhaps you'll be more reasonable now," he said evilly. "I'm going to state it in the plainest of terms: if you don't give me the information I want, I will hand this precious little notebook over to Lord Elrond. When he finds out that his trusted minstrel was planning to blackmail him, he will instantly throw you into the deepest, darkest, dankest prison. And your blackmail information will be useless, for you will not have Erestor's signature to corroborate with you. Lord Elrond will burn the notebook."

I scowled. "Very clever," I said bitterly. "I will think about your threat."

"You have twelve hours in which to decide between life and death," said Legolas, smiling pleasantly and slamming the door behind him.

I hate Legolas.

* * *

"_Lord Elrond," said Legolas._

_"What?"_

_"I just went to visit Lindir-"_

_"Since when do you visit Lindir?" asked Elrond disbelievingly._

_"Well, he did heal me," said Legolas. "Anyway, I went to visit him, and what is he doing? Singing a sad, angsty song. There is something definitely the matter with him."_

_"Will you stop telling me that?" said Elrond angrily. "You people keep saying that and won't tell me what to do about it. Do you think he should go see a counsellor?"_

_"You mean Erestor? Nah."_

_"No, not councillor; counsellor, as in people who help others with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."_

_"Hmm, maybe. But what stress does Lindir have in his life? He has a perfectly happy life."_

_Elrond didn't look too sure of that. "I'll see what I can do," said he._


	21. Book Four, Chapter 5

_A/N: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Special thanks to Gigigue, my beta. Don't forget to review! :)_

**Book 4.  
Lost and Found**

Chapter 5.

Twelve hours.

Twelve hours, he said.

What should I do?

It's not that I don't have blackmail material for Glorfindel. I do. But could I trust it in the hands of that scoundrel, Legolas? Glorfindel was powerful. Influential. With Glorfindel's help, there was hardly anything Legolas couldn't do.

There was a knock on my door.

I felt a nameless foreboding. People don't visit me. I don't have friends. Look who my last visitor turned out to be.

I tiptoed to the door and put my ear against it.

"Lindir," hissed a voice on the other side.

I rushed to my bed and jumped under the covers.

"Lindir," said the voice, a little louder.

The handle turned. The door began to swing open.

"Lindir?" queried Glorfindel, looking at the lump that I made in the middle of the bed.

"Oh, it's you," I said, disentangling myself from the bedclothes. "What do you want?"

"What were you doing under the covers?" Glorfindel asked bluntly.

"Thinking," I snapped. "Is there something you want?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," said Glorfindel, glancing around furtively and seating himself on the bed.

"Oh, no," I said.

"I know you won't like this, Lindir," he said apologetically, "but I'm going to have to blackmail you."

"No you're not," I protested weakly.

"I need blackmail material for Galdor," Glorfindel went on. "Now, I'm being very honest and frank with you, Lindir, and I want you to appreciate that. Not everyone is this straightforward when it comes to blackmailing."

"And you would know all about that," I said dryly.

"Yes. No! I mean," stuttered Glorfindel. "Never mind. As I was saying, I'm going to blackmail you. I happen to know that Legolas is blackmailing you, too."

"What?" I gasped. "How did you know?"

Glorfindel smiled smugly. "I'm clever," he said.

"How did you find out?" I asked.

"Legolas was acting very furtive. Slunk into your room and slunk back out looking evil." (I've never heard Legolas described more accurately.) "What else could he have been doing but blackmailing you? Now, if I tell Elrond that you are being manipulated, he will either fire you or send you away to where you won't be blackmailed. So you'd better give me what I want."

"I'm not sure," I said hesitantly. "Should I help you with this evil scheme of yours? Is it not better to suffer for the sake of doing what's right?"

Glorfindel smiled long-sufferingly. "I'm giving you ten hours to think about it," he said. "You'd better rethink your moral code or you may end up in Lothlorien."

"Lothlorien?!" I gasped.

"Lothlorien," he gloated. '"A subtle hint will be all it will take.'"

I groaned.

Glorfindel exited with a smirk. "Have a nice day!" he said, quite the Judas.

I hate Glorfindel.

* * *

_"Erestor," said Lord Elrond, "Glorfindel and Legolas have alerted me to the fact that Lindir is acting strange."_

_"Oh, dear," said Erestor, trying not to sound careless._

_"What should we do?" said Elrond._

_"Observing him from a distance might be the wisest course, my Lord.,"said Erestor._

_"Right," said Elrond., "I shall do so immediately."_

_"My Lord, not my binoculars!" protested Erestor._

* * *

_It seems that I have started a trend. I am SO PROUD OF MYSELF. Several people have started writing 'Life of' stories for other characters. There is a **Life of Loki **and **Life of Thanduil **by Rousdower (both of which are really awesome) and a **Life of Legolas **by Sixty-four K which I love to death (Lindir is PERFECT in it). Please go read them! Also keep an eye out for a Life of Orophin by OneSizeFitsAll. She's not started it yet, but she plans to write it eventually. I'm so excited. OSFA's Orophin is epic. ^-^ _


	22. Book Four, Chapter 6

_A/N: I'm finally back. Sorry this took so long. Hopefully the updates will be coming much faster from now on. I know I say this every time, but I promise to be more quick in the future! And as usual, please take time to review. For those who do, it is more appreciated than you probably realize; thank you so, so much. *sniffs emotionally* Oh and guess what? Since I began this story in June 20th, 2014, it has had 4,003 views in total! O.O *bursts with gratitude and pride and egotism* YAY! I can't believe this! Okay I'm done with my ravings. :)_

**Book 4.  
Lost and Found**

Chapter 6.

So now I had only ten hours.

I didn't know what to do in the least. I felt that I could not trust either Legolas or Glorfindel with the information that I had on Glorfindel and Galdor. It was too risky; I could only think what they could do with such incriminating evidence; there'd be manipulation, backhandedness, plots popping up. What could I do?

As I sat pondering, I heard a knock on my door. Because of the events of the morning, knocks were beginning to sound sinister and disturbing. I armed myself with a poker and an ink pot and peeked under the door to see who it was.

'Hi Lindir,' said Galdor, who was peeking under the door, too, from the other side.

'No,' I said.

'Let me in!' said Galdor. 'I need your help with something.'

'Then speak it through the door,' I ordered. I had already guessed what was coming.

'I need some blackmail material to blackmail Legolas with,' said Galdor in a loud whisper.

'And I'm guessing you already have blackmail material to blackmail me with,' I sighed.

'Ye- how did you know?' said Galdor, astonished.

'I'm brilliant,' I explained. 'Go on, out with it. Let me hear the terms.'

'I know Glorfindel is blackmailing you,' said Galdor, trying to sound smart. 'Now if you don't-'

'I've heard all this before, Galdor,' I said wearily. 'I get the point. How long do I have to think about it?'

Galdor was extremely disappointed that he wasn't the first person to blackmail me. 'Well,' he said, a little crestfallen, 'I was thinking I'd give you eight hours.'

'Don't you think fourteen hours would be better?' I asked innocently. I didn't want all three of my blackmailers coming after me at once, which is how it looked like it was going to go.

'No,' Galdor said decidedly. 'My mind is made up.'

'Galdor,' I said under the door after a long pause, 'you can leave now.'

'I'm bored,' said Galdor. 'And anyways, I need you to let me into your room so I can hide.'

'Hide?' I asked, and I felt a sinister premonition. The last time I had agreed to hide someone in my room had ended disastrously. To say the least.

'Yes,' said Galdor carelessly. 'You see, I was supposed to stay in the hospital until tomorrow-'

'Where is Galdor?' yelled Lord Elrond's voice from somewhere in the direction of the infirmary.

'See?' said Galdor, standing up hurriedly and banging on the door. 'Let me in, Lindir!'

'I'm not going to be the one to get in trouble,' I said, leaning against the door and hoping that Galdor would not break it down.

'Where did I leave that axe I borrowed from Gloin…?' Galdor murmured.

'Wait, no, you'll scratch the paint!' I said desperately, and opened the door.

'Thanks,' said Galdor, looking smug. 'Quick, where's the best spot to hide in here?'

'Up the chimney,' I lied. It didn't work. (And just in case I haven't said it yet, I hate Galdor.)

'How about in this cupboard?'

'That's a wardrobe,' I corrected him. 'And that will be the first place he'll look.' I had decided that it was in my best interest now to keep him out of sight, for if Elrond saw him in my room, he would fire me for consorting with criminals.

'Then where?' Galdor asked, looking around desperately. Footsteps were approaching.

'I know,' I said. 'Jump out the window, and slip into the infirmary while Elrond is talking to me. Then when he comes back, just act as if you never left.'

'That won't work,' Galdor said. 'He saw that I wasn't in there a minute ago.'

'Well, just pretend that there must be something wrong with him,' I said hurriedly. I heard Elrond's shouts getting closer and closer. 'Suggest that he goes to see a psychiatrist or something. Say there's something wrong with his head. I don't know. But hurry!'

Galdor looked at me, and a spark of admiration shone in his eyes. 'You know, Lindir,' he said, 'you're more cunning that I thought.'

'Get out,' I said between clenched teeth. Galdor lept through the window just as the door opened and Elrond burst in.

'Have you seen Galdor?' he panted. 'He's escaped the infirmary.'

I did my best to look innocent. 'My Lord,' I said, 'What makes you think that I would have seen him? You know very well that the hate between us is mutual.'

'But I've looked everywhere for him,' said Lord Elrond, 'and I can't find him. Where else could he be?'

'Hmm, well,' I said thoughtfully. 'He might be in the infirmary...'

'What do you take me for, Lindir?' he said, turning very red. 'Do you think I'm blind? He was gone just a minute ago.'

'Well, my Lord,' I said gently, 'perhaps it was a trick of the light. Or maybe you're just forgetful. Or perhaps you were just having a flashback to the last time you were trying to cure Galdor.'

'I'm in a perfectly perfect mental state,' said Elrond haughtily. 'Of course he's not in the infirmary. And anyways, what are you doing talking about my mental problems? You're the one who's acting strange.'

'Who, me?' I said, lifting my eyebrows as high as I could. 'My Lord, there is absolutely nothing the matter with me!'

'Glorfindel said you hit him on the head with a book. Or was it a butterfly net?'

'It was a butterfly net,' I said darkly. 'You don't think that it's strange to hit Glorfindel on the head, do you? I assure you that it is a quite natural urge.'

'Oh, yes, I've had it myself,' said Elrond. 'But you never hit people over the head. Do you?'

'Well, I need to start doing it more often,' I said dryly. 'It's more fun than I thought.' I firmly guided Lord Elrond out of my room and closed the door. 'Good afternoon, my Lord,' I said.

* * *

'_Glorfindel,' said Elrond thoughtfully, 'I think you're wrong about Lindir. He seems to be fine.' _

'_Did you speak to him?' asked Glorfindel concernedly. _

'_Yes. And his explanation for hitting people seemed natural and understandable.' _

'_But I said before, my Lord,' said Glorfindel, 'that yes, it would be understandable in anyone else. But Lindir is a pushover. Did he have a sudden personality switch?' _

'_I don't know,' sighed Elrond. 'I can't deal with this right now. Maybe I'll get Erestor's help. I think I may need to take a vacation to Lothlorien, Glorfindel.' _

'_Since when is going to Lothlorien considered a vacation?' asked Glorfindel. _

'_I need to see Galadriel,' Elrond said unhappily. 'Something's wrong with me, and Lindir and Galdor both have advised me to see a psychiatrist. Much as I hate her, my mother-in-law is the best one to be had.' _

'_Lindir must be very angry at you, my Lord,' Glorfindel warned. 'He hates psychiatrists, and especially Lady Galadriel, and he would never advise anyone he liked to go see her.' _

'_Well that's very comforting,' said Elrond hotly. 'I'm sick of trying to figure out what's wrong with Lindir. He can go to- to the Halls of Mandos for all I care! You deal with it.' _

_Elrond stomped off, rubbing his forehead fretfully. _

'_At any rate,' Glorfindel called after him, 'I think you should skip the trip to Lothlorien, for your own sake.' _

_Glorfindel watched him go with a thoughtful expression. _

'_Perhaps I shall look into Lindir's problem,' he mused. _


	23. Book Four, Chapter 7

_A/N: Speaking of breaking promises... it's the most depressing thing in the world to go look at your last published chapter and see promises of quick updates scrawled all over them. :( It's been a long time, but "Chewie..." *dramatic ten second pause* "We're home." Life of Lindir is moving forward. He is no longer frozen in time. He is being updated! I have a very bad excuse, if you want to hear it. My internet acts up all the time. But I also have the opposite of an excuse. This has been written for a really long time. I didn't even have to work for it before publishing it. I am so lame sometimes. _

**Book 4.  
Lost and Found**

Chapter 7.

'I can't take this anymore!'

Lord Elrond had come up to me while I was playing a mournful tune on my harp (it's a nice pathetic one and ends like this: No tidings Elven-folk have heardOf Amroth evermore), grabbed me by the shoulder, and dragged me into a secluded corner of the garden. Then he had sat me down and said to me,

'I can't take this anymore!' as he pulled at his hair.

Needless to say, I was annoyed that he had interrupted my angsty moment; but I politely remained silent while I waited for him to regain his composure.

'Lindir,' he said, 'I have found out the source of my mental ailment.'

'What, my Lord?' I asked absentmindedly. I was trying to get the lyrics right to a song I had been composing that morning.

'Those Elves,' he moaned. 'Galdor, Glorfindel, and Legolas, to be specific.'

'Of course,' I said.

'They've all three of them been plaguing my life for far too long,' Elrond went on. 'Legolas and Galdor both got injured _again_ just now, and it took me an hour to try to fix them up. Glorfindel keeps giving annoying advice about how to heal them. And about everything else, come to think of it. And the mental strain is too much. Did you know that they are all blackmailing me to let them stay here?'

Now he had my full attention. 'What?' I said.

'Yes. Every one of them. Otherwise I would just send them away.'

'What are they blackmailing you with?' I asked curiously. Maybe I could use it later.

'It's not exactly blackmail,' said Elrond. 'They say that they have a way of making Galadriel outlaw Athelas. With her sway over the White Council, I would be forced to outlaw it, too, which would not only hurt my income as a doctor, but also I wouldn't be able to sell it to Thranduil for exorbitant prices anymore. Unless I had a smuggler or something.'

I made a note of that. If ever Galadriel did ban Athelas, I would become a smuggler. It sounded quite lucrative.

'So if you kick them out, they'll make Galadriel ban Athelas?' I said. 'Well… are they all blackmailing you together, or separately?'

'What do you mean? Oh, no; they didn't come all at once and threaten me together. I don't think any of them even knows that the other two are manipulating me.'

'Good,' I said, smiling and rubbing my hands together. 'Good good good.'

'What is your plan?' Elrond asked.

'Who says I have a plan?' I said. 'Why should I have a plan? What will I get out of all this?'

'What?' said Elrond in disgust. 'You mean you're going to use your poor employer's need as a way to get something out of him?'

'In this world no one does anything for nothing,' I said wisely. 'Now what will you give me?'

Elrond smiled evilly. 'I won't fire you,' he said.

My face fell. I had forgotten that he could easily manipulate me to do practically whatever he wanted. I thought for a moment.

'Very well,' I said suddenly. 'I will help you, my Lord.'

'Good,' said Elrond. He looked a little surprised that I would give in so easily. 'Now go fix everything. If you fail me, Lindir...'

'Yes, my Lord,' I said, and hurried away to make a blackmail list.

I could only hope that it would work.

* * *

'_Erestor,' said Glorfindel, 'have you noticed anything strange about Lindir recently?' _

'_No, not really,' said Erestor, as he turned a page in his book. 'Wait a moment… yes, there is one thing.' _

'_What?' asked Glorfindel._

_Erestor became suspicious. 'Why do you want to know?' _

'_Now, believe me,' said Glorfindel quickly, 'I'm not trying to hurt Lindir in any way. I just want to help him. Several of us have noticed that he's acting odd, and we're trying to find out why.' _

'_I don't believe you, sorry,' said Erestor. 'What do you mean you're trying to help him? You're blackmailing him!' _

'_How did you know that?' asked Glorfindel, startled. _

_Erestor looked superior. 'I'm not an idiot,' he said. _

'_Don't tell Elrond,' Glorfindel begged. _

'_I'm not a squealer, either,' said Erestor. _

_Glorfindel sighed in relief. 'Good. Oh, Erestor, you're so dependable. Anyway, the blackmail thing is just, well, it's necessary. It's for very good reasons, really it is. But it has nothing to do with this. Right now I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong with Lindir. Why is he acting strange?' _

'_I don't know,' said Erestor thoughtfully. 'The only thing I've noticed is that he stole one of my notebooks… that's not very like him. It's more of something you would do. But I didn't bother to go and talk to him about it. He probably had good reasons.' _

'_You have such faith in Lindir, and none in me,' Glorfindel pouted. _

'_Shut up,' said Erestor, and enveloped himself in his book once more. _


	24. Book Four, Chapter 8

_A/N: I have updated quite fast because this chapter is super short. please leave a nice, un-rant-y, unflaming review. Reviews are more appreciated than you probably realize. Even grumpy ones. You know what? Now that I think about it, I don't think I've gotten more than maybe one angry review. I'm so proud of myself. That to say, if you think you shouldn't leave a review because you can only think of nasty things to say, then do leave a review. Nasty reviews won't kill me. And they might amuse me. Or they might actually improve my writing... so there's nothing to lose.  
Alright, I'm done rambling. The story. Tada! _

**Book 4.  
Lost and Found**

Chapter 8.

Elrond had his blackmail material, and I was sitting in my room once more, trying to read a book. I was rather distracted, though; if Elrond was successful in making the three annoying Elves leave, then all my problems would be solved for the moment.

There was a knock on my door.

'Enter,' I said. It was probably someone I didn't want to see, but I had given up on trying to be happy for the day.

Glorfindel came in.

'Lindir,' he said quickly, 'I need some blackmail material for Elrond.'

'No,' I said.

'You know what I'll do to you if you don't give it to me,' he said. 'I need it, and I need it now.'

'Why?'

'Because Lord Elrond is blackmailing _me._'

'Good,' I said. 'Sorry.'

'Lindir!' he yelled. 'Being sorry isn't enough! Now where is my blackmail material?' He grabbed me by the collar.

I groaned dramatically and buried my head in my hands. 'I _had _some blackmail material for Elrond,' I said unhappily, 'but Legolas took it.'

'What do you mean?' Glorfindel asked, dropping me back into my chair. 'Can't you just say the magic sentence, like "I know all about those pies you stole," and he will be completely at your mercy?'

'It's not that simple,' I said despairingly. 'I had to have a second witness so I stole Erestor's signature. Don't look so horrified; you would have done the same thing yourself. So now since Legolas has the notebook, I am unable to blackmail Elrond.'

'Well, just tell me what the notebook looks like,' said Glorfindel. 'I can steal it from Legolas.'

I felt a slow smile grow on my features. 'Hmm,' I said.

'I can feel the conflict within you,' said Glorfindel creepily. My expression snapped back to a frown.

'I'll have to think about it,' I said coldly.

'Very well,' said my enemy. 'But I need it soon. Lord Elrond has only given me six hours in which to think about his threat. I'll give you four.'

I opened my mouth to protest, but he was gone.

...Have I said I hate Glorfindel? - Because I do.

* * *

**No little ending thingy here this time. Sorry. Toldja it was super short. By the way, the two-hundredth review is coming up (unless everyone stops reviewing just to spite me). Whoever leaves review 200 will get... idk... well, I guess whatever he wants. What do you want, reviewer 200?  
**


	25. Book Four, Chapter 9

_A/N: __I was going back a little and reading some older chapters of this story, and I found that one-shot smack dab in the middle that I had completely forgotten about. You know, Chapter 16, where the elves of Imladris are rehearsing a Shakespearean play of the destroying of the Ring. I know back then people said they'd like more Shakespearean Middle Earth. Is that still a wish? I enjoyed writing the last one. I think, if anyone wants it, I can write another one after this part and before the next part. Let me know what you think!_

**Book 4.  
Lost and Found**

Chapter 9.

I had barely recovered from Glorfindel's visit when there was another knock on the door.

I hate knocks.

Before I could even get up from my chair, Galdor came in, looking quite worried.

'Lindir!' he said desperately. 'I need you one last time!'

'No,' I said, and tried to be invisible. Inevitably, I failed.

'Elrond is blackmailing me,' said Galdor. 'It's not fair! It's just not fair!'

'What do you mean?' I asked. 'You blackmail people all the time.'

'I know,' said Galdor, as if it wasn't a crime, 'but that's not what's not fair. Legolas is blackmailing him back. I don't know how; he must be brilliant.'

'Legolas? Brilliant?' I said. 'Nah.'

'Well how is he doing it?' Galdor said, stamping his foot. 'Lindir, help me out. What do you know about Lord Elrond?'

'I can't help you,' I said. Then I paused. 'Wait, maybe I can.'

'Then do it!' Galdor pleaded.

I thought. I thought some more. Would this actually work?

'Galdor,' I said suddenly, 'tell me something. What are you trying to blackmail Legolas into doing?'

Galdor's answer was succinct and to the point.

I smiled.

'I need to go talk to Glorfindel,' I said, standing up and heading for the door.

'But I need to know how to blackmail Elrond!' said Galdor.

'Alright, alright,' I said. 'I'll tell you in-' I glanced at my watch. 'Two hours.'

'You'd better,' said Galdor darkly.

I laughed. Things were looking up.

Now all my hopes rested on Glorfindel and Legolas' answers to one question.

'Glorfindel,' I called, running up to him. 'I am ready and willing to give you the information about the notebook.'

'Good,' said Glorfindel, relieved. 'What does it look like? What colour is it? How big?'

'Wait,' I said, holding up my finger, 'all I ask is one little thing in return.'

'What?'

'Tell me what you're trying to blackmail Galdor into doing.'

Glorfindel's answer was not as succinct as Galdor's; but it was to the point.

I smiled. Things were going my way.

'Right, then,' I said. 'The notebook is eight by four inches; about an inch thick. Falu in colour.'

'Falu?' asked Glorfindel, knitting his brow. 'What in Middle Earth is Falu?'

'Uneducated balrog slayer,' I reprimanded. 'Falu is the deep red colour often found on barns. It was named for the-'

'That's all I wanted to know,' said Glorfindel.

'Wait,' I said, as he began to walk off. 'Glorfindel, in appreciation of your glorious balrog slaying or whatever, I will even distract Legolas for you while you search his room.'

Glorfindel was suspicious. 'You've got something up your sleeve, or I'm a dead lizard,' he said. 'And if I had time, I'd look into it. But since I don't, just know that if you're tricking me somehow, you'll find yourself on the road to Valinor double-quick.' He narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. 'I will find you, and I will skin you.' And the golden haired Elf was off.

I laughed and did a little dance. 'Everything's going my way,' I sang. 'Now where is Legolas?'

Legolas was in the library bothering Erestor. I've noticed that about Legolas; he always has to be bothering someone to be happy. He also has this strange idea that he always has to be happy; I've never felt so. It's one's duty to be unhappy sometimes. Maybe he'll learn his lesson one day; he needs some trauma in his life.*

'Legolas,' I said, 'will you do me a favour?'

'No,' said Legolas.

'Yes you will. Answer me one question,' I ordered. 'What are you blackmailing Glorfindel to do?'

'Why should I tell you?' he asked.

'Because otherwise I'm not going to trust his secrets in your hands. If it's something reasonable, however, there is no reason for me not to give it to you.'

Legolas brightened. 'Good,' he said. 'Then I'll tell you.'

His answer was by no means succinct, and even less to the point. But eventually I got the gist of what he had to say.

'Right,' I said. 'Exactly what I needed to know.'

'Are you going to tell me?' he said.

'Yes,' I said, glancing at my watch. 'In approximately twenty minutes.'

'But-' he began.

'Don't worry,' I said happily. 'Everything is going to work out great.'

'Lindir!' roared Elrond, storming into the library.

Erestor slowly and pointedly got up and left at this moment. I didn't blame him.

'Legolas, leave,' I said. 'I need to talk to Lord Elrond.'

'I don't think I want you to talk to Lord Elrond,' said Legolas suspiciously.

'Do as he says,' said Elrond. 'Or do I have to… I don't know, find something else to blackmail you with?'

'Fine,' said Legolas grumpily. 'Since nobody wants me, maybe I'll just go and jump in a lake.'

'You do that,' I said unhesitatingly. 'Now out.'

Legolas went out all in a huff, and Lord Elrond and I were left in peace.

'Lindir,' said Elrond in a low growl. 'I need your help, and I've been looking for you forever.'

'I know what the matter is,' I said airily. 'You tried to blackmail Legolas, but he just blackmailed you back.'

'Yes!' Elrond roared. 'With blackmail that YOU wrote!'

'That was not my fault,' I said quickly.

'Explain yourself,' he demanded.

'It's a long story,' I said sheepishly.

'Lindir,' said Elrond heavily. 'I know you've been a good employee all these years. But I can't stand for this, this libel, and, and writing down incriminating evidence! It's simply not right.' (He was ignoring the fact that he was in the same business, but I was wise enough to not mention that.) 'I'm going to have to fire you.'

'My Lord!' I protested. 'There is still a chance to fix everything! I can still do it! Just trust me! Believe! Have faith! Etcetera!'

'You have a plan?' said Elrond excitedly.

'Well,' I said slowly, 'I might have a plan… if you promise me one thing.'

'And what is that?' he asked.

'If I succeed in helping you get rid of the troublesome trio, you will swear to never, ever, ever fire me, even after this is all over. Even for different reasons.'

Elrond thought for a moment. 'Unless I was trying to manipulate you, why would I want to?' he asked, puzzled.

I have to admit that I was flattered by that. 'Well,' I said hesitantly, 'I don't know… you may just want to manipulate me again. That's not that infrequent of an occurrence. Just promise.'

'Very well, I promise**,' said Elrond decidedly. 'Now what is this glorious plan?'

I thought for a moment. 'I don't think I'll tell you yet,' I said slowly. 'It might not work.'

'Well, jump to it,' said Elrond. 'I-'

Galdor burst in at that moment. 'Lindir!' he said. 'Your time is up! Now tell me the black-' Then he saw Elrond. 'Um,' he said nervously. 'Nevermind.'

'No, no, come right in,' I said, winking at Elrond and trying to communicate that I wanted him to leave by a series of facial contortions, 'I need to talk to you.'

Somehow Elrond understood, and went out laughing and rubbing his hands together. Galdor watched him go with a slightly disturbed look on his face, then he turned to me.

'Lindir, are you plotting something with Lord Elrond?' he asked. I cursed inwardly. Why did Elrond have to be so obvious?

'Of cccourse not,' I stuttered. 'Elven Lords do not plot.'

'Aren't you some sort of Lord, too, though?' asked Galdor. 'You plot all the time.'

'Nevermind that,' I said hurriedly. 'You came to get Elrond blackmail information, didn't you?'

'Yes,' said Galdor.

We were interrupted by an Elven Lordly scream. I winced. 'Apparently Glorfindel found the notebook alright,' I commented to myself.

'What?' asked Galdor.

'Oh, nothing. Right. So I don't have any blackmail information that you could use on Elrond-'

'Oh false one!' cried Galdor. 'You have deceived me-'

'Shut up and listen,' I said. 'I can tell you how to get some, is the thing. All you have to do is go find Glorfindel and steal a notebook from him. It's eight by four by one inches big. It is Falu- umm, dark red in colour, and it contains information about Elrond that he will hate to have spread. Go get it and there you have it. Free blackmail information for Elrond!'

'It's too hard to steal from Glorfindel,' Galdor complained.

'Well, too bad,' I said, shaking my head sadly. 'There's nothing else to be done. Maybe I can help you. I'll see if I can distract him. How good are you at picking pockets?'

'Young Elf,' said Galdor, drawing himself up, 'you are talking to a master.'

'You just said it's hard to steal from Glorfindel,' I reminded him.

'Well, if you distract him it will be easy!' said Galdor.

We went to find Glorfindel, and soon did. He was with Elrond; apparently they hadn't finished discussing what Elrond had to do to keep Glorfindel from revealing everything in that notebook.

Elrond didn't seem at all happy to see me. He began making doomful glares at me before I was even inside the doorway.

'Glorfindel,' I said, 'can I talk to you a moment?'

'Yes, what?' asked Glorfindel. He seemed affable enough; apparently he was satisfied with my blackmail material.

'Uuummm,' I said, trying to think of something to talk about. 'How did you like my latest composition?'

'It was terrible,' Glorfindel said simply. 'Was that all you wanted to talk to me about?'

Galdor was taking his time, creeping up behind the target very slowly and un-sneakily.

'Well, no,' I said. 'I was going to mention...' I paused to make faces at Galdor so that he'd hurry up. But Galdor was not as well versed in the language of facial contortions as Elrond was. He didn't speed up. 'That blackmail you were asking for… how soon did you want it?'

'I want it now,' said Glorfindel, grabbing me by the collar again. 'I can't wait any longer. Quick, Elf, tell me!'

'Settle down, I'll tell you in a minute!' I said, gasping half in pain and half in relief. Galdor had the notebook and was tiptoeing away with all speed. 'Galdor, Galdor can't sleep without his balrog plushie.'

'What?' said Glorfindel, dropping me in a heap on the floor.

'And he doesn't want anyone to know,' I went on, 'because he knows that everyone will be angry at him for liking a balrog.'

Glorfindel slowly smiled. 'Thank you for your cooperation.'

And he went off to find Galdor. Maybe he'd find Galdor before Galdor found Elrond. That would be convenient; the less mad Elrond was at me the better.

I went off to find Legolas. And I could only hope he hadn't found out that the notebook was not where he left it.

But of course I could have only so much luck in one day.

*Lindir wrote this before the events of either The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings. It is a debate going on between Lindir and Glorfindel about which event made Legolas more solemn; Glorfindel insists that it was the close and extended proximity to Dwarves, but Lindir says that it is due to his meeting Aragorn and trying to be like him. Howe'er it be, you will notice that Legolas is significantly more serious later in his life than he has been up to date.

**Lord Elrond, being the nice Elven Lord that he is, kept his promise... to some extent. But he found ways of manipulating Lindir still. At one time he was said to shout, 'I'm not firing you; I'm giving you a nice, long, _unpaid _vacation!'

* * *

**A/N: The author's note at the top was getting too long. :P There is another interlude that I have ready; I randomly generated some plots with a nifty little plot generator and they are hilarious. I might put them up in between parts. **

**And one more thing: FandomFangirl100 has won the prize for being the 200th reviewer! Congrats! What do you want as a prize, FandomFangirl? Virtual cookies? (::) (::) (::) **


	26. Book Four, Chapter 10

_A/N: I know I've been pummeling you relentlessly with chapter updates. I need to figure out an organized schedule. But I'll wait at least a little while before publishing the next chapter. I guess I'm just too excited; I have several parts already completed and ready to publish already._

_I just got this idea that calling each "part" **Book **__instead might be less confusing, so I'm going to change them all to that. That's all from your ramble-loving author for today! So long. _

**Book 4.  
****Lost and Found**

Chapter 10.

Legolas was angry.

'Lindir!' he yelled. 'You've been plotting again!'

'What?' I asked innocently.

'My notebook is gone!'

'It is?' I asked, trying to sound disbelieving. Of course it was gone.

'Yes, and you're at the bottom of it, you foul fiend!' he cursed. 'Now where is it?'

'You don't need it anymore,' I said. 'You've got what you wanted from Elrond. You're getting what you wanted from me.'

'I am?' he asked in surprise. 'Good. Tell me!'

'You've been told about Glorfindel's tragic death because of the Balrog,' I said.

'Yes,' said Legolas impatiently.

'Well, do you know how he was pulled down with said balrog?'

'What are you talking about?'

'By his hair,' I said, trying to refrain from giggling. 'His hair! If people found out he'd be the laughing-stock of all Arda. And Lord Elrond would make everyone cut their hair so no more accidents would happen.'

'Hehehe,' Legolas simpered. He does not have the self-control that I possess.' So what do I do? Just go and say, "I know all about your your hair and the balrog"?'

'Yes,' I said. 'Simple. Now hop to it.'

'If I find that you've been tricking me,' he said darkly, and left his sentence unfinished, echoing in my head like a doomful knell.

Now I had one thing left to do. I needed to find Galdor. And hopefully the place I'd find him would be on his way out of Imladris forever.

'Galdor!' I called. He turned to face me with a death-like glare.

'You!' he said angrily.

'What did I do?' I said innocently. 'All I've done all day is help you. And you don't appreciate it.'

'Glorfindel is making me leave Rivendell,' said Galdor poutily. 'And I have no doubt that you're at the bottom of it.'

'How would I make Glorfindel do anything?' I asked. 'And besides, why do you even want to stay in Rivendell?'

'Because the cooks are way better than the ones at the Havens,' he said dejectedly.

'Cheer up,' I said deviously. 'I'm going to tell you how to get Legolas to do whatever you want.'

Galdor brightened. 'Yes, you have to. I still can blackmail you, you know.'

'That fact has never left my mind,' I said dryly. 'But all you must do to make Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood completely obey you is to say, "I know all about the spiders."'

'What spiders?' asked Galdor.

'That's none of your concern,' I said sharply. 'I promise it will work. That's all you need to know.'

'Very well,' said Galdor. 'I'll go manipulate him now.'

'Yes; do that,' I said. 'I need to talk to Elrond.'

'I probably should, too,' said Galdor. 'I need to thank him for his hospitality.'

I snorted. Why did everyone in Imladris have two faces?

We didn't need to go find Elrond, however, for he came and found us.

'Lindir,' he said in awe, 'something strange has happened.'

'What, my Lord?' I asked smugly.

'Glorfindel has just informed me that he's leaving Imladris; that he will be gone indefinitely; and that he has no plans to come back.'

'Oh, really? How nice,' I said smugly.

'Lord Elrond,' Galdor interrupted. He had, apparently, just gotten back from blackmailing Legolas, for Legolas was with him and had a large satchel. 'I, too, am leaving.'

'And so am I,' said Legolas, smiling wanly. 'Thank you for your hospitality.'

Elrond had a look of shocked relief on his face. He looked at each of us dubiously. 'What is happening?' he gasped.

'Nothing,' all three- no, four now, for Glorfindel had joined us- said in unison.

'Goodbye, everyone,' I said quickly. I didn't want any of them to give anything away until they were all safely out of Rivendell.

'Goodbye, Lindir,' said Galdor. 'And thanks for all the help,' he added in a whisper.

'Have a nice life,' said Glorfindel dramatically. 'Unfortunately I will probably never see you again. And in return for your favours, one of these days I'll find a cure to whatever malady is making you act strange.'

'Goodbye,' said Legolas. 'And by the way, we're still enemies, until death ends all friction between us.'

'That sounds good to me,' I said. 'Now hurry up and leave for goodness' sake.'

'Lindir,' said Elrond, as together we watched the trio tromp down the road, 'please explain to me your brilliance, for my humble mind cannot comprehend it.'

I smiled. 'It's quite simple, really,' I said. 'You see, I found out that all three of them were planning to blackmail each other to leave. They can't stand each other. So when I found that out, I just let them blackmail each other and there you have it. Leave them to themselves, and they'll eat each other up. All our problems are solved.'

'Well,' said Elrond thoughtfully, 'if it was that simple… I was considering giving you a raise for your hard work. But since it was so easy, maybe I shan't.'

'What?' I shouted.

'Wait a moment,' said Elrond, turning towards me in horror. 'Do they still have the incriminating notebook?'

'No, my Lord,' said Erestor, floating onto the veranda. He held up the Falu coloured notebook demurely. 'Lindir advised me to retrieve it from Galdor's unguarded pocket before he left.'

'What,' I stammered. Erestor gave me a look.

'Also, my Lord,' Erestor continued, 'Elladan and Elrohir have just started out for Mirkwood again.'

'How?' Elrond wondered.

'I have my own ways and means,' he said.

Elrond gazed at us both with something akin to admiration in his eyes. 'You two are amazing,' he said. 'I have changed my mind. I'm going to give you both raises!'

I choked. 'Really?' I gasped.

'Yes. I need more Elves like you around to solve all my problems. Haldir! Orophin! Someone! Bring out a bottle of the old Dorwinion! I'm going to celebrate.'

Elrond wandered off and I stood staring at Erestor. 'Why?' I asked.

'I heard you were mentally ill,' he said quietly. 'Of course I wanted to help your sanity.' He dropped the book on the floor, pulled out a match, lit it, and dropped it on top of the incriminating evidence. 'I was extremely worried for you, Lindir. And it was easy to guess that your problem was due to those three. I trust you'll be better from now on.'

'Erestor,' I faltered, tears filling my eyes, 'you're the best Elf that I've ever-'

'And, of course,' he added, watching the flames leap up and flicking a fleck of dust off of his robe, 'I needed a raise.'

**The End**


	27. Post-Book Four Interlude

_A/N: This is a little interlude for you. I didn't finish the Shakespearean section yet, so I decided to instead publish the random plots I generated. :) These turned out totally wacky, but they were way too much fun. If you want to generate some random plots, here is the site:  
_ www. plot-generator. org. uk/  
_I hope you enjoy! _

* * *

**Lindir, the Elf**

_A Fantasy Novel_

by Lily Lindsey-Aubrey

_In an Imladris there lived a Loveless, Bitter Elf named Lindir . Not a Clever, Pushover, Annoying Imladris, filled with butterflies and a Stupid smell, nor yet a Quiet, Snooty, Fluffy Imladris with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was an Elf-Imladris, and that means peace._

One day, after a troubling visit from the Orc Legolas , Lindir leaves his Imladris and sets out in search of three Cold teacups. A quest undertaken in the company of Elves, Dwarves and Angry People.

In the search for the Orc-guarded teacups, Lindir surprises even himself with his cleverness and skill as a minstrel.

During his travels, Lindir rescues a butterfly net, an heirloom belonging to Legolas. But when Legolas refuses to try running, their friendship is over.

However, Legolas is wounded at the Battle of snowball fight and the two reconcile just before Lindir engages in some serious running.

Lindir accepts one of the three Cold teacups and returns home to his Imladris a very wealthy Elf.

* * *

**Lindir's Progress**

_A Humor Novel_

by Lily Lindsey-Aubrey

"I'm going to need precious butterfly nets, big, precious butterfly nets."

The night of the Imladris Christmas Party changes everything for Lindir , a 1003-year-old minstrel from Imladris.

One moment, he is discussing shampoo with his pleasant enemy, Legolas; the next, watching with horror as annoying elves make fun of each other.

He knows these elves came from Mirkwood but he can't prove it - at least not without some precious butterfly nets.

The pushover, quiet man knows that his peaceful life is over. He acquires some precious butterfly nets and is reborn as the hero who will save the world from annoying elves.

However, Lindir finds himself troubled by his peaceful ideals and becomes overwhelmed with moral questions. Will his conscience allow him to do whatever is needed to stop the annoying elves?

Praise for Lindir's Progress:

"Never have there been more chilling villains than annoying elves that make fun of each other."

\- The Daily Tale

"Are we seriously supposed to find a pushover and quiet minstrel from Imladris heroic?"

\- Enid Kibbler

* * *

**Peaceful Imladris**

_A Short Story_

by Lily Lindsey-Aubrey

Lindir was thinking about Legolas again. Legolas was an unfeeling orc with tall heads and blue-eyed hair.

Lindir walked over to the window and reflected on his quiet surroundings. He had always loved peaceful Imladris with its colossal, chubby council rooms. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the an unfeeling figure of Legolas .

Lindir gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an irritating, silly, tea drinker with thin heads and blonde hair. His friends saw him as an amused, angry angel. Once, he had even brought a yucky minstrel back from the brink of death.

But not even an irritating person who had once brought a yucky minstrel back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Legolas had in store today.

The cloud teased like escaping elves, making Lindir hysterical. Lindir grabbed an odd knife that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Lindir stepped outside and Legolas came closer, he could see the spotty glint in his eye.

Legolas glared with all the wrath of 3924 sadistic outrageous orcs. He said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want butterfly net."

Lindir looked back, even more hysterical and still fingering the odd knife. "Legolas, leave me alone," he replied.

They looked at each other with unhappy feelings, like two wasteful, wooden wizards fleeing at a very bitter Thranduil Elven-King's Fab Party, which had jazz music playing in the background and two hurt uncles decapitating to the beat.

Suddenly, Legolas lunged forward and tried to punch Lindir in the face. Quickly, Lindir grabbed the odd knife and brought it down on Legolas's skull.

Legolas's tall heads trembled and his blue-eyed hair wobbled. He looked annoyed, his emotions raw like an ashamed, angry arrow.

Then he let out an agonizing groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Legolas was dead.

Lindir went back inside and made himself a nice cup of tea.

THE END

* * *

_**OKAY, REREADING THROUGH THESE (ESPECIALLY THE LAST ONE) WAS RATHER HORRIFYING. O.O Woah. That last one was DARK. But anyhow, I hope they made you laugh. :) See you later! **_


	28. Book Five, Chapter 1

_A/N: Here is another episode in Lindir's Life. Unfortunately, this is a bit of a traumatic part for him, so I'll have to write a happy one after this. Thank you, all reviewers! I am more grateful to you than I can ever say._

_One more note: this is AU, I must admit. There may be a little bit of confusion as to why Saruman is on the White Council at the same time as Aragorn is ruling Gondor. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff. It's alternate universe, okay? Where Saruman survives (because Saruman is totes awesome)._

* * *

**Book 5  
****Lindir and the Great Butterfly Ban**

Chapter 1.

Life in Imladris had gotten a great deal happier and more peaceful since the departure of the five troublesome Elves. Elrond was slowly de-stressing, Lindir was able to be un-angsty, and Erestor had more time to read instead of suffering from constant headaches.

In fact, things were too good to last.

When life is good, something bad is bound to happen eventually, and this time it was due to Galadriel of Lothlorien, Lady of Light.

It happened at a meeting of the White Council, right in Imladris itself. Everyone in the White Council who was anyone, except for Gandalf, showed up for it. This does not, by the way, include Radagast. During their last meeting, Saruman the White had banned him because, for one thing he never showed up, and for another, Saruman had a bone to pick with Radagast that had something to do with mushrooms.

It was at this meeting that the fate of Middle Earth changed forever.

Or at least, the fate of Lindir.

And maybe not forever.

But be that as it may, it was still quite a horrible decision.

The reason it was allowed was because Gandalf couldn't make it to the council. He was extremely busy. 'And besides,' as he thought to himself, 'I make it to the council every stupid time, whereas everyone else only comes when he feels like it.'

That is how Galadriel was able to ban catching butterflies.

'Council members,' she whispered in their heads, 'I have decided that we are banning the catching of butterflies.'

'Why?' said Saruman dryly.

'Council adjourned,' said Galadriel.

'Wait, Lady Galadriel,' said Elrond, who was extremely intimidated by his mother-in-law, but not enough to let her make random laws for no reason. Well, I hope. 'The White Council wishes to know why such a ban should be created.'

'Because,' snapped Galadriel, forgetting to whisper in peoples' heads, 'I'm running out of them in Lothlorien. I like the way they look, and if people keep catching them, they'll go extinct.' She carefully failed to mention that Thranduil Elvenking had been gloating because he had far more in his realm than she did in hers.

'That's ridiculous,' said Saruman. 'Butterflies are not going extinct. There are thousands in Mirkwood-'

'La la la,' sang Galadriel, covering her ears with her hands, 'I'm not listening. I'm banning butterfly catching and that's that. And besides,' she added, proving she had been listening, 'Mirkwood is not Lothlorien.'

Saruman looked to Elrond for support. Elrond didn't like it, either, but only shrugged helplessly. He wasn't about to risk Galadriel's wrath; Arwen was in Lothlorien at the moment, and he didn't want his mother-in-law to send her home to plague him.

Saruman left the White Council in a very bad mood. He had this odd suspicion that no one ever listened to him.*

The news didn't get out until the next day. Elrond was in his study, calmly perusing a document when he heard a blood-curdling scream from somewhere outside.

In less than two seconds flat, Lindir was at the window, gasping and choking and looking like he'd seen a ghost.

Elrond, ever the medic, dropped his glasses and ran to where his hapless minstrel was writhing. 'What is it, Lindir?' he asked concernedly.

'My Lord Elrond,' he said, his eyes filling with tears of trauma.

'What?' asked Elrond.

'You've… banned… catching butterflies!' And Lindir fainted dead away.

Only then did it hit Elrond; how much this ban would affect his minstrel. Lindir caught butterflies a great deal. It was the way he de-stressed. When the troublesome Elves were around, it was the only way he survived. Now Elrond almost regretted having let Galadriel make this unnecessary law.

_Something has to be done, _he thought to himself as he dragged Lindir to the infirmary. _I owe Lindir; he just helped me out of a terrible scrape. I must find some way to stop Galadriel's ban. But how do I do it without her murdering me? _

Just as he was about to apply the much needed medication to Lindir, he heard another sound, this time a roar of frustration. Five seconds later a flash of grey streaked through the infirmary door and materialized before him.

'Elrond!' roared the flash of grey, 'this has gone too far!'

It was Gandalf.

'Why, Gandalf, how nice to see you,' said Elrond affably, ever the diplomat. 'Would you like some tea?'

'Do not think I am here to simply have tea,' yelled Gandalf. 'This is urgent! And by the way, yes, I'd like some tea.'

'My Lord Elrond,' said Lindir weakly, waking up. 'I will go fetch it.'

'Yes, do that,' said Elrond. 'Wait, no! Lindir, you're ill.'

'I am perfectly recovered,' said Lindir, sniffling and hurrying off.

Elrond was pained. He hoped there were no hard feelings; it wasn't exactly his fault, really.

'What were you saying, Gandalf?' he asked, turning back towards the wizard.

'I was speaking of this new ban,' said Gandalf grumpily. 'You can't just go about banning things- especially things on the "Top Favourite Pastimes of the Year" list.'

'You mean the butterflies?' Elrond sighed. 'Why on earth do you care?'

'How am I expected to survive my next adventure without catching butterflies?' Gandalf groaned. 'How will I summon the eagles? The ONE time I don't show up to the White Council. Why the one time?'

'Your tea,' said Lindir, handing it to Gandalf.

'Lindir agrees, don't you, Lindir?' said Gandalf.

'With what?' said Lindir.

'He agrees!' said the Wizard. 'Elrond, remove the ban instantly.'

'I can't,' said Elrond simply. 'It was made by Lady Galadriel.'

'Call another White Council; we'll vote it down,' said Gandalf.

'I'm not going to vote on your side, just so you know,' said Elrond.

Lindir and Gandalf both looked at him, aghast.

'You know I'd do almost anything for either of you,' said Elrond apologetically, 'but I can't risk Galadriel being mad at me at the moment. I did consider it for a while, but I've decided I just can't.'

'Sissy,' said Gandalf. 'Weakling. Do it, or I'll… oh, I don't know.' Gandalf sank dejectedly onto the floor and buried his head in his hands.

'I'm sorry, Gandalf,' said Elrond, 'but I simply can't risk Galadriel's wrath. You know what my daughter did the last time I let her come home? She _decorated _my study! DECORATED! Disgusting.'

'Can I get you more tea?' asked Lindir of Gandalf.

'I'm going to DIE!' moaned Gandalf. Lindir took that as a yes.

'I'll do what I can to protect those who disobey this law,' said Elrond, 'but I cannot remove it.' He quickly removed himself from the place of mourning.

'If I may be so bold,' said Lindir, sitting down beside the wizard, 'perhaps I could propose a plan...'

* * *

_I'm sorry it's been so long. I really am. I've had a very busy summer, but now I'll have lots more time. Missed you all! I hope you like this new book. :)_


	29. Book Five, Chapter 2

_A/N: Hey guys! I'm starting to get inspired to write more fan fiction, finally. It's a really good feeling. Maybe I'll be updating more often now. Maybe? *pokes myself* _

* * *

**Book 5  
Lindir and the Great Butterfly Ban**

Chapter 2.

Lindir couldn't really blackmail Elrond. Although Elrond had promised never to fire him, there were other horrible things he could do to him. Like send him on a vacation to Mirkwood while the troublesome five were there.

And even if he did, it wouldn't do much good. Even if Elrond voted against the ban, there would still be too many votes for it. (This is because Galadriel had long ago made a rule that each of her votes equals five of any ordinary person's votes. And since she voted for it, no one could vote this rule down.)

However, he had a plan. He could manipulate Elrond in other ways, along with everyone else. But this plan involved a great sacrifice on his part.

'We must bring back Legolas,' said Lindir.

'Whatever for?' asked Gandalf.

'He knows how to blackmail Galadriel,' said Lindir.

'But that will never work!' said Gandalf. 'If you try to blackmail her, something terrible is bound to happen to you. Do you remember the time that Celeborn tried to get her to leave for Valinor? She took a vacation to Imladris and ordered the border guards of Lothlorien to stop standing guard for a month. Celeborn was mobbed by Orcs the whole time (they thought he was Galadriel, whom they'd been wanting to destroy for decades- and I can't really blame them).'

'I know,' said Lindir. 'If I made him blackmail her to stop the butterfly ban, she would instantly know it was either me or you at the bottom of it. I've thought of something else.'

'What?' asked Gandalf.

Lindir smiled. 'We must get him to blackmail her to ban _Athelas_.'

'What?' roared Gandalf. 'You can't do that! All of Arda would be in an uproar.'

'Exactly,' said Lindir. 'Leave it to me, Gandalf. I shall fix everything up perfectly.'

'If you're leading me on...' said Gandalf threateningly.

'Of course not,' Lindir scoffed. 'I want to be rid of this ban as much as you.'

'Very well,' said Gandalf suspiciously. 'No tricks now.'

'Oh, there'll be tricks,' said Lindir evilly.

Galdor, Legolas, and Glorfindel had all set off down the road after being so unceremoniously ejected from Imladris at each others' hands (due to Lindir's unceasing efforts).

"Poor old Elrond," Glorfindel commented. "I don't know what he'll do without us."

"I know," sighed Legolas. "Without me and my great shooting skills, Imladris will surely be overrun with orcs."

"Gildor will miss me," said Galdor morosely.

"I don't think so," said Legolas. "He doesn't like you very much."

"I always miss people I don't like," said Galdor. "Don't you?"

"Well, I do tend to miss ada a lot," said Legolas, and then added hastily "but don't tell him I said that!"

"Speaking of people I dislike," said Glorfindel suddenly, "why did you make me leave Imladris if you were leaving, anyhow, Legolas?"

"I wasn't planning to leave," said Legolas glumly. "Galdor made me."

"I made to get rid of you, and then Glorfindel made me leave, too," said Galdor unhappily.

"State your name and business in the Elvenking's realm," shouted Feren, coming out of the gate and standing before the three.

"You know who I am," said Legolas.

"Wait, I was trying to get away from you," said Galdor angrily. "I thought you were going to go to Lothlorien!"

"And I thought _you _were going to go to the Grey Havens!" yelled Glorfindel.

"You were supposed to go to Gondor," groaned Legolas. "Now I'm stuck with both of you!"

"Are you coming in or aren't you?" asked Feren, annoyed.

"This is Lindir's doing," shouted Legolas. "I'll get that minstrel back!"

"Oh, I don't think you should do that," said Feren quickly. "I'm sure Lindir had nothing to do with this misunderstanding." He was sure of nothing of the sort.

"But-" said Glorfindel.

"I know what it was," said Feren suddenly. "It was Elrond. He must have plotted this whole thing!"

"But-" said Legolas.

"Now, really, can you imagine Lindir being clever enough to get you all out of Imladris on his own?"

"No," said Galdor instantly.

"So. Now come inside; your father would like a word with you, Legolas."

Lindir had a slight problem.

He had sent for Legolas. However, once Legolas wasn't blackmailing him to stay out of Rivendell, there was no reason for Glorfindel to stay in Mirkwood. And once Glorfindel wasn't blackmailing Galdor, Galdor didn't want to get left out of the party. Besides, they'd gotten too used to fighting with each other and had rather given up on the blackmail thing.

So instead of Legolas alone, Lindir had three annoying Elves on his hands once more.

'Hello, Lindir!' said they, all quite affable. Apparently they still hadn't figured out that their previous exile was all Lindir's doing. 'You sent for us?'

'I sent for Legolas,' Lindir amended. 'I did not send for the rest of you.'

'But here we are,' said Glorfindel annoyingly.

'I see that,' said Lindir dryly. 'Well, you can all be of help to me, now that I think of it. You probably will need each other's moral support.'

'What do you need us to do?' asked Glorfindel.

'Now look,' said Lindir. 'This may seem like asking a lot, but remember what I did last time to help you out?'

'Wait, you helped Glorfindel out?' said Galdor suspiciously.

'So now,' said Lindir hurriedly, 'I need your help in return. I know you have blackmail information about Galadriel.'

'Oh, yes,' said Legolas. 'But I would never use it. It's much too risky.'

'Nonsense,' said Lindir. 'Not if all three of you do it, and then travel to different spots. She can't get to all of you at once.'

'Then she'll just do us one at a time,' said Glorfindel.

'No, actually I'm rather sure that she won't,' said Lindir. 'She'll be tied up here. I'll arrange for that. Now all you three have to do is go to Lothlorien and blackmail her into outlawing Athelas.'

There was a universal scream of 'Nooooo!'

'Don't worry,' Lindir insisted. 'Everything will be back to normal within a week, I promise. It only needs to be for a few days. This is very important to me, and if you don't help me out, I may have to collect some more blackmail material on all of you. Anyhow, why shouldn't you do this? It's easy. And wouldn't you like to go visit Haldir and Orophin and R- oh, what's his name...'

'Rumil,' said Galdor.

'Yes, him,' Lindir continued. 'It would be a nice vacation!'

'I'll consider,' said Legolas wisely. 'Maybe I should ask my dad...'

'Oh, don't do that!' Lindir said quickly. 'I'm sure he's much too busy to be bothered by things like that.'

'We'll think about it,' said Glorfindel.

'Well, do it quickly,' said Lindir. 'We haven't got long.'

'Before what?' asked Galdor.

'Before I lose my mind,' said Lindir grumpily, and stomped off.

The three Elves watched him away.

'Mood swings,' Legolas diagnosed.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please leave a review for the inspired author. :P And also if you could vote on my poll and tell me what you want me to focus on updating! _


	30. Book Five, Chapter 3

_A/N: This chapter has a mildly rated part about Athelas in which it is sort of portrayed as a drug. Just a warning if you don't want to read about that. _

* * *

**Chapter 3. **

To Lindir's relief, the elves were ready to depart for Lothlorien within a few hours. He had a vague suspicion that the newly constructed water slide there lured them and made them more than usually willing to comply with his schemes.

"Now, I have a warning for you," said Lindir. "Once you've blackmailed her, I think it best that you head straight to somewhere far away- say the Grey Havens. Before she has time to chase you, I'll be distracting her with things here. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my main minstrel," said Legolas airily. "I'm an expert at-"

"-Running away," Galdor finished for him. "We know. Let us be off!"

"Geronimo," said Glorfindel stoically. And off the three galloped.

Lindir took a deep breath. This was not one of his best plans, he had to admit. He hadn't thought it through very much. But then, he'd been so stressed; butterfly-catching banned? How could anyone think straight in such a situation?!

He sighed and hoped it would work. There was always Feren… Feren would fix any problem he had.

Glorfindel, Galdor, and Legolas finally reached Lothlorien at dusk. Now, dusk is by no means a nice time to be in Lothlorien. Unless you absolutely have to, never _ever _spend a night in that place. You are likely to see frightening elves in white creeping around at unearthly hours. And above all, _never _follow them. You may meet the rumored seaweed monster.

But unfortunately, the troublesome trio had no warnings, and foolishly decided to speak to Galadriel before retiring for the night.

Up the talan they leapt, and Galadriel appeared in a burst of shining white light. Obscured by her dramatic entrance, Celeborn hung in the background looking awkward.

"My lady," said Glorfindel, shoving Legolas out of the way and bowing low. He knew from experience that he was a much better diplomat than either of the others. "We would wish to speak to you… alone."

Galadriel lifted her chin and gazed piercingly at Celeborn, who departed rather hurriedly. "Follow me," she said in a ghostly voice.

The three shot wary glances at each other, each thinking the same thought. Galdor voiced it under his breath.

"What a class A creeper."

"I know what you said," Galadriel breathed disconcertingly, "for it is also in my mind." It can be assumed that she thought Galdor was referring to Celeborn.

Once they had finally gained the summit of the steps which wound about the trunk of the tallest tree (they almost didn't; Galdor slipped twice, and had to be helped by Glorfindel since there were no handrails), Galadriel motioned for them to sit down. She remained standing, making sure that her dress was draped perfectly before asking,

"What would three elves ask of the Lady of Light?"

"We have come to ask nothing," said Glorfindel boldly. "We have come, in fact, to demand something."

Galadriel's eyes turned a shade bluer.

Glorfindel stood up and tucked his hair behind an ear nervously. "You know, of course, the dreadful effects of the dangerous Athelas drug," he said, careful to keep his voice steady. Galadriel could be so intimidating. "I wish to bring to your attention its harmful properties."

Galadriel remained silent, but turned her head slightly. Glorfindel sniffed bravely and went on.

"It dulls the senses." He began to pace. "It fogs the mind. It causes hallucinations. And most dangerous of all, my lady, is its effect on the emotions of the user. It creates a very pleasant sensation, which makes it quite addicting. Elves, Men, Wizards, Hobbits; all are coming to use it more and more. It is an epidemic of Athelas overdosage. And the most urgent thing about it, is that I have been notified by a trusted botanist that Athelas is in danger of going extinct!"

Galadriel's bluer eyes widened a fraction of an inch.

"My conclusion," said Glorfindel, stopping in front of her and clasping his hands behind his back, "is that it is very important that you ban the use of Athelas at your next White Council meeting."

Galadriel considered for a moment. "I do not believe that Athelas needs banning," she said. In her mind she thought, "How will I keep Celeborn zooey without Athelas?"

"But, my lady," said Legolas, jumping up and grinning. This was the part he liked best: the blackmail. "We aren't giving you a choice."

"What do you mean?" said Galadriel, smiling disturbingly.

"My lady," said Galdor, jumping up too. Legolas pushed him back down.

"We know all about that failed business attempt," he said loudly. "All about the 'Pick meeee' slogan. All about _everything." _

Galadriel finally lost her composure and let out a shriek. "Impossible!" she gasped.

"Oh no it isn't," Legolas gloated. "Ada told me everything."

"You can tell no one about that," said Galadriel urgently. "No one must find out!"

"That can easily be arranged," said Glorfindel, throwing his cloak over his shoulder in a debonaire manner. "But I don't think I _shall _arrange it, since you so unkindly refuse to comply with my wishes."

"You would _dare _to blackmail _meeeee?_" hissed Galadriel. "You will regret this!"

"And you will regret not doing as I say," said Glorfindel dryly. "What do you say? Will you ban Athelas in the next White Council?"

"I suppose I must," said Galadriel, sneering. "But I shall get my revenge."

"Just try," said Legolas, trying to sound more confident than he was.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up soon. I can't wait to get to the next book, honestly. I already have it completed, and it's awesome. XD Please review if you liked it! And vote on my poll if you haven't already. _


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